The Serpent Cycle: The Professor
by Thom Heap
Summary: "The Serpent Cycle" retells the story of the Harry Potter saga from Severus Snape's point of view. The second chapter, "The Professor" follows Severus Snape through his early years of teaching, as the distraught former Death Eater evolves into the formidable Professor. Disclaimer - I don't own the rights to the characters or anything else in the Harry Potter Universe.
1. Chapter 1

The Serpent Cycle

~Part Two~

"The Professor"

~Saturday 7 November 1981 – Early Evening, My Room

I'm in the room, my room. I don't know why I am writing this, but I think that I have to, for her.

I am afraid. I know what I must do and I will do it - though I have no idea how I will ever manage the thing. Even now, I want nothing more than to die. I never had the courage to do so in the past, but after last night… I cannot allow that to happen again. To die now would be the most cowardly act I could ever commit. I am alive now for one reason, I cannot betray that for anything. Last night made me see that if I am to do this, I must first focus and start taking care of myself. I must find some way to gain control over my thoughts and emotions. When the moment comes, I will be ready.

I have to stop this somehow. My every thought is one of horror. I cannot shut out my memories or even think straight. The events of the past few days have been so disorienting and I cannot help but to relive them over and over. The moments have past and yet they might just as well still be happening for the amount of detail I can recall from each event. My memories are so vivid that they drown out the present, and yet there are still events of the past few days that I do not remember at all.

When I was young, I prided myself on my memory. In school, I could read or hear something once and never forget it. I didn't need to study or even try as my classmates would have to have done... Now they are free to forget while I am cursed to remember everything - every painful moment - every word in every conversation. I sit alone in the room ruminating over the things we said – all of the things I regret and wish I had done differently. I can hear the things they said about me still. I allowed my feelings and my memories get the better of me, and I was nearly undone as a result.

I must silence my thoughts now as I once did when I was in school. Back then I wrote to relieve my frustrations and to keep track of my memories. It seems stupid now… three years ago – I thought I knew darkness. I knew nothing. Still, it did help to alleviate my trivial fears and thoughts. Considering all I have seen and done… well, I suppose now I shall just have to write in greater detail…

At some point I will have to face what I have forced myself to forget. That, I cannot – nor will I ever write, ever. For now, I will record what has happened in these past few days. I so need to remember this week - but to think on it no further. I will write everything. What else can I do really? There is just – all of this – time… a terrible void of endless time and I have nothing. There is nothing to focus on… nothing with which to fill the empty space of time… Perhaps that is the true reason I wanted to start a new journal… I have no idea what else to do.

No – I cannot think that way. Not any more. I have to be strong– for her. I can do this.

~The Early Days of November

I don't remember much, after what happened... I want to think that a blessing, but I hate to think now that I gave up so much control. I don't know what they did to me and that I find deeply disturbing. In all of that time, I know that I was not Imperiused. The missing fragments of memory are of a different nature than those lost under the Imperious Cruse. Which almost makes the memory loss all the worse for the chances are in that case, that I have no one to blame but myself.

I want to know what they did to me in that time. I need to, but I am afraid to unlock my thoughts from those days. As soon as I deal with the present, I will make sense of it. They will not have such power over me. I won't let them.

That is the other reason I must write. I keep dreaming, every night – the most vivid horrid things. Dreams weaken my powers of Occlumency. If I write, then perhaps it will help me to empty my thoughts before I sleep and I won't dream at all.

~The Portraits

The first thing that I remember, albeit vaguely was Dumbledore's office. That is when I woke up. I had been awake for days so the portraits said, but I do not remember that. I do recall them speaking, I heard them as if they were a million miles away. I thought it a dream, but now that I have come to my senses, I know they were real. I heard their voices through the haze… they were talking about me.

That is when I slowly became aware of where I was, and how I learned of what had happened in those days. I was sitting in a hard backed wooden chair. One of the portraits, I think it was Phineas Nigellus, asked another portrait why I was there in the office. The other former headmasters told him that I had been sitting unnaturally straight upright in that chair, for days. "He just sits and stares unblinking at nothing. It is a bit creepy," he had to add, "He has been completely motionless - but for his slow shallow breathing, we would think him to be dead."

It was a woman who started the argument. "He is still in shock, it's only been a few days what do you expect? Look at his eyes!" she said.

"I did." The first portrait answered. "That's what I find so creepy about the kid. They're blood-shot and odd. Who has black eyes?"

The woman argued in my defense for some reason. "Well for starters Everard, his name is Severus. Furthermore, his eyes are blood shot because he has cried himself past the point of being able to produce tears! Don't be so cruel. And I don't see what you find creepy about his eyes. He has such sweet doe like eyes."

"Blank staring creepy eyes. What is wrong with him? Does he not care that his clothing is so badly disheveled? It is full of dirt and ash. Look at his hair Dylis! See he does not even bother to pick the bits of leaves from it - or even pull it back from that gaunt face of his!? Is he a vampire with that long black hair and pallor!? He doesn't even look alive. Dylis you are wrong about him?" Then he went on laughing and arguing with the others. He kept insisting that I must have been a vampire because I had not slept or eaten in days. I have been insulted as such for my whole life. It hurts, no matter who says it - students, teachers, or even long dead Headmasters... But he was right. I honestly didn't care what I state I was in - let alone what I looked like.

The woman argued with him further. "He looks sick," she said.

"He is sick," another voice said…

Someone else spoke, and then I knew it to be Phineas Nigellus. "Why has Dumbledore not done anything for him? He does not seem upset to see Severus in this deranged state."

"Of course he's not," another voice was saying. "It was he who had locked Severus in his office and left him to sit staring for days. Albus may not have offered his not-so-former student any consolation at all, but this imprisonment was not an outright act of cruelty. He had done it to protect Severus as much from himself as much as from the Wizarding community at large, but that's over now."

Phineas cut in yelling, "What on Earth are you talking about!?"

"Honestly, where have you been Phineas? Dumbledore knew Severus wanted nothing more then to cut his own throat and die. He threatened to do it several times, we all heard him. He'd even broken free once. It was an hour before the Headmaster could find him and bring him back to the school. After that, Albus left Severus here then locked in the office to cry and rage himself into nothingness."

Had I? Memories began to come back to me, but at that point I hadn't the strength to take them in. I shut down again and went back into my trance. Whether they had gone on arguing about me or not, I do not know.

~The Trial

It could have been hours, or it could have been days, but the next thing I remember was Dumbledore. I was still sitting rigid in the chair. I felt my hands draped over the arms of the thing and yet, I felt oddly detached from my body. And when Dumbledore spoke, his voice floated through to me from beyond… from another world.

"Are you ready Severus?"

"Yes…...Headmaster." I was somewhat aware of having spoken. I had heard my own voice from the same distant place. I wasn't quite sure of what I had said. And I didn't care. The portraits said I didn't look alive, and I certainly didn't feel it. I remember thinking that this was not my life - that this was not any life at all.

He spoke again. I heard him clearer the second time, he said, "I am afraid, with Bartemius Crouch seeking out anyone with even the remotest connection to Voldemort, that it was only a matter of time." He beckoned me forward. "Come then, and be assured I have that I have this all under control. You will of course be cleared of all charges once I have had my say. There is no reason to be afraid."

"I'm not," I said, but my heart was racing. I knew it was only my body fearing physical pain and torture. But I wasn't truly afraid, because I knew I deserved it. Still, I was going to have to do something to stop the chemical reaction and control my heart rate.

I closed my eyes, drew breath, and something else took over. I stood up and walked lifelessly and walked across the room. I didn't feel much. I certainly didn't feel my feet upon the floor. It seemed as if an invisible force was drawing me forward. But I know there was no such force. I walked across that floor myself with the last of my strength. Whatever I had to do, I would do it.

The Headmaster led me directly to the Pensieve. Somehow this seemed to make sense, as if it had long been planned. It must have been, for I knew exactly what to do. I raised my wand to my forehead and held the tip of it between my eyes. One by one I removed my memories. I dropped the fluid silver strands into the Pensieve and watched them swirl and distort in the water. Dumbledore helped me to cast a rather difficult charm on them that I still do not quite understand. Each of the six silver strands split in two. I knew I was to take the duplicates and replace them back into my head. I did this with out speaking. My mind was blank, I'm not even sure if I knew my own name let alone what I was to do. I looked at Dumbledore. He only nodded at me, meaning for me to continue, so I did that. I took out more and more memories and left them in the stone basin. I finished and stared at him.

"You are sure that is all of them?" He asked. I nodded. "Good," then he waved a hand over me. "That should do it," he said when he'd finished. From what the portraits said, I suppose him to have cast some sort of charm to clean me up a bit.

One of them cried out from the wall, "Well, he still looks frightful, but for now at least he is clean-shaven and his hair devoid of debris."

Dumbledore ignored this. All he said to me was, "We should leave immediately for the Ministry of Magic. It will be best if we arrive as early as possible for your trial." I nodded and followed him out of the office. Get there early? What did I care about the time? Time is meaningless… that is all that there is now, so the details of the thing are rather insignificant.

We walked in silence through the corridors of the school. The portraits upon the walls all murmured to each other as we passed. "Stand up straight boy," one of them called to me. "Stop stooping over when you walk. Would it pain you to hold your head up?"

I know, I know. I never stand up straight and I do not walk properly. I can't - what do they all want of me? I'm too tall for my own body and there is nothing for it. Oh, how she used to say it – all the time. "Why do you always stand with your head down? Why do you hold your shoulders like that – you're so tense! You look like a cowering dog in fear of being hit by its master!" she would say. What could I even begin to say to that?

Nothing. Just keep walking. The portraits eventually fell silent. I could not bring myself to look at them - but all too well, I felt the weight of their penetrating stares. I knew that they could all see my guilt. I closed my eyes and prayed that the Wizengamot would as well.

The Trial. My trial, for having been a Death Eater… I wanted to turn myself in. I longed for Azkaban. I begged Dumbledore to send me to that impenetrable prison. I remembered that much even as we walked. I would so gladly have accepted a life sentence. The perpetual torment of Dementors slowly sucking out my soul – forcing me to relive my most painful memories – locked up alone forever… I deserved it. I wanted it - but Albus Dumbledore had other plans…

I was so numb. I barely felt the bitter cold of November - or even noticed the fact that we had stepped outside. We walked still in silence across the grounds and to the gates. There was no life. No birds sang. I heard only the sound of dry, dead sticks and leaves cracking under my feet. Only the sound of Dumbledore's cloak dragging the brush against the dust and that horrible ice-cold wind... The sky was violent, blustery and gray. It was only the later afternoon, but the sun was long gone. Of course the sun was gone. She was gone - everything was gone. The old world had been burned away and the sky was now full of ash and smoke. No life left, only Albus Dumbledore walking through the bleakness with a wraith at his side.

We reached Hogsmeade. Dumbledore finally turned to look at me, but I didn't look back at him. I just kept starring forward as he held out his arm to me. Fine. I was a good dog. I reached out my arm and took his. One violent crack of thunder - the lung crushing pressure and that was it. We'd left the woods and reappeared before the Ministry of Magic.

That dark marble building was nearly as cold inside as the bitter November air outside. Dumbledore seemed to make no sound as we made our way down the empty corridors, but the thunderous sound of my own wooden boot heals echoed endlessly down the hall. I hated it. I felt the terror taking over. What was happening to me? My heart was beating hard again. Each heartbeat matched my heavy heal strikes with cold hard intensity. It felt like a death march.

I couldn't understand it. I knew I would live, I knew I would not be imprisoned. The trial was nothing more then a show. They all were. Scores of witches and wizards with even the most remote ties to The Dark Lord had been called to stand trial. In that week alone, nearly sixty trials had been scheduled to occur. The series of show trials were intended to make the Ministry appear to have control over the chaos that had erupted since the death of The Dark Lord. Dumbledore had explained all of that to me at some point… I understood it. I was nothing, just another cog in the wheel of their plan, so what was it I feared?

The massive metal doors at the end of the corridor drew closer. There truly was nothing behind them that I feared. I knew Dumbledore's word and well-laid plans would be more then enough to clear me, despite my guilt. My guilt - which was greater than most of the people who would be tried… How many might be unfairly called to stand trial? How many would be unjustly sent to Azkaban while I walked free? My footsteps became louder. My heart beat harder. Suddenly the doors flew open and slammed violently into the marble walls. Light poured into the hallway and blinded me.

The light swept over me and seemed to transport me into the room. For a moment it seemed all was blinding white light and no sound. And though I had no clear memory of having done so I must have stepped forward over the threshold, for when the flash of light faded, I was inside of that room facing the whole of the Wizengamot.

Almost immediately two massive Aurors moved towards me. I froze there at the edge of the room, standing hunched over as I always do. I know I do this to hide the awkwardness of my body. I'm so sickly thin and far too tall. I don't want people to look at me. I don't want them to notice me and see strange I am. Of course it was all in vain. There is no hiding in a room when all eyes are upon you, and there would be no hiding from the two Aurors that had descended upon me.

They snatched me up on either side by my scrawny arms and made to drag me to the center of the room. Dumbledore tried to stop them. But I turned and looked back over my shoulder at him. I nodded just enough for him to notice – to let him know that I would be all right. Then I dropped my head and walked away willingly with the Aurors.

I wasn't afraid of them, even though they were both nearly twice my size. I can only imagine what it must have looked like, me walking with a twitch between them… Almost instantly, the room was full of mutterings. I hated it. I heard every single thing they said about me.

"Who is he?" I heard the voice of one snarky woman ask.

"I don't know but he looks sick," a grunt man was saying. Why, why does everyone have to look at me? Why must they talk about me? Do I really look _that_ sick?

Another woman whispered – loudly, "He looks like a plant that has never seen the sun," as if I'd never heard that before…

"A plant? He might as well be an abyssal fish." Who ever said that didn't even bother to whisper.

Someone else stopped laughing long enough to say, "He looks like a weed being dragged by two trolls!" before convulsing into muffled laughter again.

"He is a mere child - Is he really in need of such escort," another man who was also laughing said, "doesn't seem much of a threat does he?"

"That's just it, isn't it?" a woman said ominously. I didn't like her tone at all for I knew where she was going with it - "What dark magic could cause such a sickly creature to be so unafraid under such a circumstance?" The others around her began to voice their agreement.

Finally I'd survived the gauntlet of taunts and reached the center of the room. There waiting for me was another large Auror who stood with his hand outstretched. "Your wand." He demanded.

The other Aurors released their grip, but only slightly. I had to reach my arm oddly through their clutches to draw my wand from where it lay in my left sleeve. My fingers closed around the ornately carved handle... The familiar feel of it calmed me instantly as I drew it from my sleeve. The weight of the unusually heavy wood in my hand only added to my feeling of peace and strength, but they took it from me and as they did I felt my breath leave my body with it. Panic wanted to take me over, but I wouldn't allow it.

Its just an object - its just an object, I can do magic with out it I kept telling myself. But, it was a friend who had been with me for almost all of my life. I didn't look at back at the black ebony wand as they took it away, lest I allow them to see me in any way upset. Still, I couldn't help but to think on the possibilities as I let them lead me to the chair upon the raised platform.

Their hands dug painfully into my arms as they took me up the steps. I felt the absence of my wand grow worse with each breath but I fought hard not to show fear. I was determined to hold my head up before the whole of the Wizengamot. I had to somehow stop staring at the floor so I lifted my head. I intentionally did not focus my eyes on anything or anyone. Everything was a blur, a sea of darkened faces and shadows. My head was swimming again. I began to feel as lost and numb as I had felt in Dumbledore's office, but this was different. This time I had a sense of purpose, and I found peace in that for some reason. I silenced all else and focused only on my final steps to the chair.

They were going to force me into it, but I took my place willingly. Almost instantly gold chains sprang up and coiled about me in one fluid motion - wrapping themselves about my neck, chest, wrists and ankles. Seconds later they solidified with out warning and I was bound to the chair – permanently so it seemed. Chains. Chains? Were they joking? I suppose this to have been a rather useful tactic when used to terrify the lot of the accused, but did they really think they could frighten me – with chains? What were chains to me after all I had been through?

Such arrogance, such shortsighted assumptions on the part of the Wizengamot… I felt near contempt towards them all. I almost smiled as I thought upon how amusing it all was in truth. I thought back upon the last time that I had been bound I such a way – but the second that thought crossed my mind I crushed it, burying it deep in my memory - lest my thoughts endanger another. Took a deep breath, emptied my mind and finally lifted my head. I looked my captors directly in their faces. My heart beat slow and steady. They had no power over me.

Barty Crouch, that insufferable, arrogant, god-fearing tyrant looked down at me from his would be throne. I saw it, for the briefest of moments in his stony face. He was unnerved. Surely he did not like the look of the sickly, abyssal fish of a mere child glaring back at him with black eyes. He looked away from me as quickly as he could, pretending to focus on his stack of parchment. He cleared his throat, and spoke with a commanding voice that consumed the whole of courtroom.

"The Wizengamot will now hear the case number 261 on this the forth of November in the year nineteen eighty one." Then he looked at me, his eyes narrowed, "Severus Snape, son to the Pure Blood Witch Eileen Prince and to the Muggle Tobias Snape current resident of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under the care of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore?"

"Yes," I answered. My voice did not carry far, for I always speak softly. It took Barty Crouch a moment to register that I had even spoken at all.

He nodded slightly then continued. "Severus Snape, you stand accused of having been associated with He Who Must Not be Named. You have been accused of having been a Death Eater, and of bearing The Dark Mark – do you deny these charges?"

"No." I told him, and I was calm when I said it, for I do not deny the truth.

"Right," Crouch was far too haughty when he spoke. The sound of his voice alone nauseated me to no end... "Let it be known to all here assembled, that the honorable Albus Dumbledore, a member of this Wizengamot has already vouched for this young man. He has already admitted to his guilt. Upon the word of Albus Dumbledore, this young man has already repented in full and has been acting to help our side for several months." Then he looked down at me and said in the most demeaning way possible, "I am sorry son, but all this is procedure. The formalities must be observed in all cases, even yours." I nodded my compliance and Crouch continued, "Now, can you show us The Mark in question?"

I couldn't help myself. "That's rather difficult," I said with out feeling, "Seeing as you've pinioned both of my arms." The crowd began to crack into laughter. Crouch seemed stunned, and yet it was still too easy. "I'd magic up my sleeve for you if you'd prefer, but that too I'm afraid would not be possible since you've taken my wand." By then the crowd was laughing openly.

Crouch was furious. I rather imagine the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was not accustomed to being spoken to in such ways, but I didn't care. "Silence," he then ordered, "This court will come to order, now." Instantly the crowd fell into silence, "Now, tell me, tell the court – do you have a Dark Mark or not?"

"Yes," I told him.

Crouch seemed still irritated. "Yes you have it, or yes you don't?"

Had I not been clear? What part of the word "yes" had not been obvious to him? I fought hard not to display my annoyance. Was he really going to make me say it? That's when it struck me hard – just how badly I wanted to not talk about the violation that had been done to my body, and to my soul… still there was no denying it. "I can assure you, that I do indeed have the Dark Mark on my –"

But I was cut off "-Oh he has it!"

That voice. I whipped my head to face the source of that awful gruff voice. Sure enough there sat the sadistic, blood-stained assassin - Alastor Mad-Eye Moody. He just - sat there - grinning maniacally. I was furious to see him, but I was even more furious to see that Dumbledore had taken up a seat next to the ruthless Auror. I stared at him blankly. I did not dare let on how much I hate him for what he did – no less the manner in which he did it. It made my skin crawl as sat there, realizing how everyone in that courtroom surely thought him a hero for such acts – but I knew better. I was there. I saw it. I saw how he killed Evan Rosier – but again I silenced the thought before it could fully surface. I turned back around to face Crouch.

Crouch was silencing the crowd, which had broken into laugher and mutterings after Moody's insolent disruption. "Right." He said, to Moody, "You are sure of this Alastor – you can see it clearly?"

So smug Moody was when he spoke - "Crystal clear," he said. I could almost feel his magical eye upon me – the perversion of it – I was growing agitated, but I shook off the fear as best I could. Moody might be able to see tattoos, but he would only think to look at the Dark Mark, and that I did not fear him seeing…

"So you have been branded," Crouch said, now finally seeming interested and not simply going through the bureaucratic motions. "Can you tell me when you were branded son?"

Son he calls me. Boy they all call me. I am twenty-one I am no _child!_ It was all becoming so intolerable, and now they wanted me to talk about the moment that it had happened… What more did they want of me? I remember it all too well, but I was not going to let even a hint of those feelings surface. Surely by then more than one Legilimens would have set to work upon me. I shut out all thought and stared forward unblinking - when I answered I was devoid of all feeling. "I received the Mark in April. April of 1978, just before the end of my final term at Hogwarts."

"Oh, well I see then. So you were one of the early ones." Crouch sounded disappointed to have to say it. "You were branded in the days when just about anyone was given the Mark. Yes I see now, according to the testimony given already by Albus Dumbledore that you were in fact inducted in an early wave." He ruffled through more paper, but this time he seemed to actually be reading them and not doing so to stall for time. After a minute or so he started muttering to himself, all the while the court became restless once again.

I looked out to the crowd. They all talked in separate groups and were no longer looking at me. Even that tawdry dressed gossip columnist seemed to be preoccupied by her nails. I was relieved, for it seemed that the suspicious crowd had dismissed me. If even Rita Skeeter could not be bothered with my trial, then surely I would be forgotten quickly.

My moment of relief, however was sadly short lived. I looked back to Crouch and waited… I knew what was coming.

"Now, Mr. Snape," Barty Crouch began, "You were in league with the Death Eaters, working for He Who Must Not be Named for nearly three years. Surely you can give us the names of other Death Eaters with whom you were associated."

This was the moment I had been dreading all along. I was going to have to give up names. I myself was about to sentence people to Azkaban.

I began to speak, fully aware of the death sentences I was handing down as I did so… Then suddenly, I was far away. I was looking down upon myself, but it wasn't me… or it was… I was confused for a moment, and then it all became clear. I had left. Snape was reciting from the carefully chosen list of names. Snape. That was it.

I had just been called Mr. Snape. That name, the named I hated – the name I have forever tried to deny. That was not my name. That was the name of –_ him._ That one. The one that I wanted nothing to do with. I am not Snape. I am _Severus._ I took my mother's last name, Prince... The Half-Blood Prince…

So then, that other creature that spoke with my voice and visage – _that_ thing was Snape. That was it. That would be the split and the separation. That would be how I would do it, how I could go on living, and how I would carry out all that had been asked of me. Snape would be a mask. The world would attack Snape, and I would remain safe from them as Severus. Alone in secret with my mother's last name – Severus – The Half-Blood Prince and no one would ever know.

At least I told myself that. I tried so hard to believe it, just as I do now. But even as I watched myself from afar, hearing my voice from a distance as if spoken by someone else - I knew it would never work, just as I do now. It was still my voice. I will never be able to fully separate… It was me – I was the one who did it.

I finally began to understand the fear I had felt from my trance in the hallway. The death march was not mine, but that of all those whom I was selling to gain my own freedom.

I hated it. I didn't want to give the names that I was giving. I suspected many among them of having been Imperiused. In truth it did not matter to me if they were guilty or not. Either way, I was about to ruin far more lives than I was naming... Families would be shattered. Adult children taken from their mothers - husbands and wives torn from each other - Parents would be taken and children would be left as orphans after this action had been completed. And I had to do it, upon Dumbledore's orders.

It came back to me then. All of the discussions that occurred in his office. All of his plans and my compliance… I had given him every name that I could think of. I told him who they were, and all that they had done… There were so many names I had wanted to give during the actual trial. I wanted to name Bellatrix her and her horrible husband – I wanted to name Luscious, Rabastan and Nott. I'd seen all of them commit terrible atrocities – before the war had even reached the peak of its hostilities… I wanted at least to name Avery and Mulciber and give them over to the Ministry, but Dumbledore would not let me. The names that I gave had all been precisely chosen by Dumbledore days earlier. He'd made me recite that chosen set of names countless times. I had been in such a state in his office, I had only been half present for those rehearsals… but I was slowly becoming aware, of just how frighteningly well Dumbledore had thought it all through.

I could not name the inner circle. They were all upstanding members of society - pillars of the Wizarding World. They could not be touched. Certainly the word of a scrawny git like me would mean nothing against theirs. Most of them had already been cleared by the Ministry, or had at least paid to be cleared. So the present reconstruction of society after the war had to be considered, but so too did the future. Dumbledore had explained this all to me... What would happen, he said, when the Dark Lord does return? What did I think he would do when he heard how I had sold out the whole of his inner circle? Surely I would be killed for this betrayal, and what good would I be as a spy then?

Dumbledore had forced me then, to give the names of not just those who had been low ranking enough to have been barely guilty of petty crimes, but those who had made grave mistakes against the Dark Lord. By turning them in, I would be seen as doing both The Ministry and the Dark Lord a great service. It was the perfect plan. Perfect, cruel and completely ruthless…

I know all to well about those who were forced into The Dark Lord's service against their will. At least half of them had done so under threat of death to themselves or loved ones. Others had been Imperiused, or had simply made mistakes. They may have claimed allegiance in fear, but most had never even considered committing any form crime. or violence. Their hearts were pure. Their hands were free of blood and they would now be sent to Azkaban for having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those who killed mercilessly then sang of their bloody conquests were now walking free - helping to shape the future of the Wizarding World. I would be set free – _I - _who was just as guilty as that inner circle was about to walk free. There was no justice. How could I be so stupid as to think that any form of alter ego could help me come to terms with that!?

My delusion was completely shattered. I was back inside of myself. I glared then at Crouch. The look in his eyes - he was as bloodthirsty and power hungry as the Death Eaters… I saw little difference – in any of us.

By then I had nearly finished giving up the names of the naïve. I had done my part in the continuing line of corruption. Crouch thanked me. I felt sick. But I still had one more name. One final soul to sacrifice… "Lastly," I said with difficulty, "Evan Rosier, though I understand he may have been captured or killed."

"Yes," Crouch said. He would have said more but once again the git Moody interrupted.

"Oh I finished him off ages ago, he tried to get one over on me," he was smiling when he said this. The sick bastard was smiling and pointing with pride to that chunk missing from his nose. It was sick, he actually laughed then said, "He wasn't too bright that one."

His words infuriated me but I forced my face to remain still. My eyes did not betray me either as I stared at Crouch. I could not think on Evan, Occlumency had already taken over, and not a second too soon.

"Is that all you have for us," Crouch was condescending to me again.

"Yes,"

"Yes?" Crouch was sneering and glaring intensely at me. He was clearly not satisfied with my response. "Can you please tell us the specific nature of the task that was assigned to you by He Who Must not be Named? According to the testimony given by Albus Dumbledore, you were a spy."

"Yes,"

Crouch was prodding me, "You passed along information to You Know Who?"

"Yes,"

Crouch sniffed, I could see he was growing impatient. "I get the sense, that you are yes-ing me to death. Son, I do not care for one-word responses. You will answer my questions in full. Now tell me exactly what it was that you did for You Know Who!"

"I was a spy," I said as calmly as I could, "My primary assignment was to follow fortune tellers and repeat their prophecies to The Dark Lord, particularly those which pertained to him. When no predictions were made, my secondary assignment was to set a watch on the Hogshead. All discussions concerning The Dark Lord were to be related back to him."

"Yes of course," Crouch this without looking up from his parchment, "From all the reports we've been receiving, You Know Who was rather paranoid. It seems he had been especially concerned about what the world at large thought and said about him." This he said more to himself for he was mumbling, then he addressed me, "So, you were one of the many spies employed to monitor the public perception of You Know Who?"

"Yes."

I could see the triumph slowly creeping across his face. "Right," he drawled, the way he looked at me made me sick. "another meant to keep track of whispers and rumors. So you were incredibly low ranking among his followers then weren't you?"

"Yes," I said with no emotion, I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of letting on that I had recognized the thinly veiled insult. The fool, not even through Legilimens could he understand the true reason of why that statement had so upset me.

"Very well," Crouch sighed, "I see you really have given us all the information that you could give. You must not have been privy to much information then, since you would have only ranked above his petty thieves."

"-Like Rosier!" The obnoxious shout – he'd done it again. Moody insulted Evan then burst into laughter again.

I felt the sting. Pain and fury were growing within me. I fought hard, shut out my feelings and redoubled my wall of Occlumency. "Yes, I was of a very low rank." I said with a sigh. I had to. I knew I was going to have to submit. I finally had to give Crouch the satisfaction he had so lusted after by admitting my to weakness. That is the only way to stop the attack of a tyrant such as him, as I know all too well. I have far too much experience on the matter... I'd done what they had all asked of me, I wanted it stopped. I dropped my head and gave them what they wanted. "The Dark Lord viewed those of my standing as highly dispensable due to our number. I did count as little more then a petty thief." If only that were true...

"Thank you," Crouch said smugly, but he was far from finished. "We will be investigating those names, and those who are found to be guilty will be punished severely. Your information has been tremendously helpful. Albus Dumbledore has told me personally how much help you have been already son."

What more could he want of me? I had nothing else, then suddenly I was struck by a horrible sinking feeling – because I thought I could see where it was all going…

"What I hope you can help me to understand now is how such a seemingly fine young man like yourself could get mixed up with such a heinous organization." Oh dear God I was right, he's going to do _that._ "I've gone through your records," he said, speaking to me as if I were a child as he pointed to the stack of parchment. "You were an exemplary student. You received top marks. You achieved nine O.W.L.s and nine N.E.W.T.s. What on Earth would make you throw all that away by joining up with the Death Eaters?"

I almost cracked. Intense shame, sorrow and hatred overtook me in a second. I saw in my memories the awful thing that had been done to me – all the terrible things I had done – all that I had loved that had abandoned me, how I had lost all hope, given up on life and turned to – them in utter despair and desperation. I would never recount so much as a fraction of such things, but that's what people like Crouch do. They, lull you into thinking they are being sympathetic. That's how they get to you. You are meant to cry and spill your heart to them, and once you submit fully, once you've given up your heart and your dignity - they have you forever, as I also know too well…

In this case, Crouch had already won. His words were meant to wound and they had. My heart had been pierced, I was vulnerable, and yet still they could not get inside of me. I could sense the eyes upon me – boring into me harder then ever they had. Some of the most accomplished Legilimens were at work against me, and yet I still held them at bay. I am _tha_t good. No one else, no matter how practiced in Occlumency could have fought of such an attack, its just not done. I was so pleased with myself, when suddenly I saw it - Dumbledore had been right.

_God damn it._ I was so sure I could do things my way despite him but he had been right, and only then did I see it! If I were to use my full powers of Occlumency, it would backfire. It would look too suspicious. In allowing the world to see what a good Occlumens I truly was, I would be giving away too much. My greatest strength had become a weakness… just as he said it would. I would have to let them in, or they would never believe…

Dumbledore really had foreseen everything and had worked even that eventuality into his plan. God, fucking, damn it. I hate it when he is right… So I let go. I carefully allowed the memory to float to the surface of my mind. I began to relate the tale as the sickening images flashed before me, and I knew they all could see what was in my mind.

The hazy past came back and Evan was shouting. There he was, the mousy brown haired teenager surrounded by four others including myself. We were all clustered together around a set of leather chairs in the Slytherin Common Room. "We are going to do this!" He was screaming and spitting with rage, "You are all cowards – You are always ruining my plans." We were all looking up at him. Everyone seemed to fear Evan, everyone, but me.

"It was Evan Rosier's idea," I spoke in the present to the court. "He was screaming at all of us. He wanted for all of us to meet with his hero - a man who was a friend of his father. Evan Rosier - his family name was the most respected amongst our group. We looked up to him… but the others, Avery Mulciber and Wilkes did not want to go at all."

"You say the others did not want to go?" Crouch seemed suspicious, "I have very strong evidence that names Avery, Mulciber and Wilkes as some of You Know Who's strongest supporters, but you say they did not want to accompany Rosier?"

I let the memory play itself out in full agonizing clarity. I allowed them to watch as in my memory as Evan went on screaming. He was cruel, and shouted terrible insults to each of us which I cannot bear to write... Then he cried out, "Do you know how the rest of the school views me – us?! If we did this – if we all were allowed to join – that would change everything!" The others were not convinced so he attacked again. "All of you are a disgrace – to your families – to Slytherin and to me! How can you even call yourselves wizards!? You disgust me."

Avery was pleading with him to stop - to leave the others alone. Finally I stood up. I walked over and literally took Evans side. "I say we do it. We will all go with you…" I was telling the others, "Evan is right. If we join up with them, then the rest of the school would be impressed and our families would be made proud…"

I could have vomited. "Avery, and the others were not responsible for their involvement," I said in the present to Crouch. "In the end, it was my fault. I finally agreed to go with Evan and convinced them to go." I hung my head slightly to give the appearance of mock shame. My real shame of course, they could never begin to imagine.

I looked back at Crouch to complete my explanation. "As soon as we had become Death Eaters, we regretted it. We all realized how foolish we had been. We all wanted to get out, but they threatened our families and we were all too afraid to defy the Dark Lord."

Crouch was nodding as I finished. He sighed then spoke with mock sympathy, "I fully understand. We have heard the tale time and again. Threats and attacks against family members and loved ones. Tragic. Like so many others you were naive. You allowed yourself to be lead astray, realizing it only after it was too late. Now I see Severus, yours is just another tale of typical teenage stupidity."

"Yes," I said this with what felt to be the last breath of life in me. Having delivered that death blow, Crouch was now finally finished.

"Well Severus, I can see no reason to keep you any longer. Severus Snape, you are here by cleared of all charges. I release you now into the custody of Albus Dumbledore."

What? I couldn't understand. My mind went blank and I felt nothing but shock and emptiness. I couldn't take it in, but it was over. The crowd forgot me and broke into muttering again. The chains that had bound me to the chair uncoiled and slunk away back down to the floor. Crouch had turned to an assistant and was already being briefed on the next case. The Aurors that had lead me in were nowhere to be seen.

So I was meant to get up and walk back to Dumbledore alone. I had not considered this. I had not considered walking away from that chair at all. I didn't know how I would be able to do it. Walking back freely was going to be far more difficult then walking as a captive. But I was… free.

Reality was setting in. I had been cleared. It hurt. I felt as though the wind had been knocked out of me. But I was _guilty!_ Don't they know what I have done!? I was guilty. I couldn't walk free - how could I walk free? This wasn't happening – but it was. The judgment had been given. The chains were gone, and Albus Dumbledore was waiting for me. There was nothing else to do. I stood up, hung my head, and walked unguarded back to the Headmaster.

I need to stop writing for a while….


	2. Chapter 2

~Sunday 8 November 1981 – Morning, My Room

I woke up confused again. I'm still not used to this. I think I will wake up in terror for the rest of my life - always wondering where I am – fumbling frantically for my wand thinking attack is upon me. Of course I am just here… alone in the room.

Starting to think I should write faster. There is nothing but time, and yet what looms ahead of me… If I don't have this all figured out before I have to do it, things will be that much more difficult for me. So now I must deal with what we said to each other after the trial… would that I hadn't said many of those things…

~Dumbledore's Office and the Question of My Fate

Even thought my senses were slowly coming back to me, I had little memory of returning to the office after the trial. I knew my wand had been given back to me, for I felt its blessed presence pressing into the back of my left arm where it lay once again in my sleeve. I was beyond grateful to have it, that much I knew… I knew we had disapparated and crossed the lawn. I vaguely recalled trouping through the corridors with out passing a soul living or dead. I still wasn't quite sure what day it was. I knew it was night, for the gas lamps lit the office and the sky outside was black, clear and full of stars. November stars… so I knew it was November.

I stood uncomfortably in the corner while Dumbledore busied himself about the room. I remember looking down upon my dirty boots while I nervously kicked at the gold pattern on the crimson carpet. I felt as if I could some how rearrange the thing by doing so. I kept at it for a few minutes, but still Dumbledore acted as if he were oblivious to my presence.

I didn't know what to do or say. The trial had left me so shaken. I felt I had been violated, exposed - forced to admit to things I had no desire to reveal to anyone. It was mortifying. I couldn't help but feel that I had done something wrong. Though I had followed the script, it still felt clumsy… as if I had run backwards up a hill. Yes I had made it through more or less, but I had stumbled so often along the way…

Why wasn't Dumbledore saying anything? He wouldn't even look at me. I didn't want to be the one to speak first, but I had to. It was going to be awkward one way or another, so I finally broke the silence. "I did my best sir," I said. My voice was weak as if I had not used it in ages. Still I knew he had heard me - even though he continued to return books to a nearby shelf. "Was that all right?" I said again slightly louder to prompt a response.

This time Dumbledore turned around, he was beaming, "As a matter of fact, that could not have gone better if I had scripted it myself."

What did he mean? I was troubled by this statement, though I was not quite sure why. "Crouch didn't seem convinced." I told him.

"That is all to the best," he said nothing else. He just sighed pleasantly as he returned to his stack of books.

"So…" I was about to say something else, when I finally understood, "So he will always suspect me…"

"I rather imagine he will." Again he spoke calmly, almost jovial.

"And…" I said slowly, trying to remain calm… "everyone else will always be suspicious of me as well."

"There is a rather good chance that they will Severus, yes." Now he gave me his full attention.

I looked him straight in the eye. "And if The Dark Lord returns, and I am suspected to be a loyal Death Eater by the whole of the Wizarding World, then the lie becomes the truth. He will believe me to be just as loyal as the day I joined him."

"Yes," Dumbledore said seeming far too proud. I grew all the more agitated by this. Dumbledore was either far to pleased with his own perceived brilliance or was far too surprised by my ability to string it all together. The arrogance of that man…

"You did this on purpose," I told him. I made no effort to hide my frustration from him. "You made me do this when I was least able to defy you or even take notice of what it was you were doing to me," I did not raise my voice, if anything I was speaking softer just to let him know how offended I had been by what he had done to me. "You snatched me from this room while I was still sick with grief and you forced me before the whole of the Wizengamot when you knew I would be most compliant and would best look the part of a pathetic former Death Eater. You told me _exactly_ what to do and say and I obeyed you with out question. To you, I was nothing more then a marionette."

"I am afraid you are correct, Severus. And I imagine that at this moment you are rather angry with me." I felt that was an unnecessary thing for him to say. "I do hope in future you will forgive me. In time, you will see that I have acted in everyone best interests."

I was too angry, there were several things I wanted to say in that moment… but I knew it would be unwise to speak the full extent of my rage. Instead I stared down at the floor again. I was fuming over the injustice. How was it acting in everyone's best interests to allow me - after all I had done - to walk free? I am sick at the thought, for I hate to think that my tainted presence would be permitted anywhere near to the pure in this world. I cannot be near people. God forbid I would pass on the poison of my corruption unwittingly to them. I've hurt everyone who has gotten close to me. It was all so wrong, how could the Ministry set me free?

The concept of guilt and justice began to consume me. Terrible thoughts and repressed emotions awoke within me.

"Where is he?" The words had erupted from my mouth before my mind had even formed them.

"He?" Even Dumbledore was alarmed by my sudden statement, "Whom do you mean Severus?"

"Him." I spoke half in a whisper, and half in a growl. I scowled at Dumbledore who stared back at me. _Yes, __see__ me __now_. I thought to myself - _Am __I__ a__ sickly __child __to __you__ now?__ Are __my__ eyes __doe-like __to__ you __now?_ I tried to burn him with my stare yet still he said nothing.

Why does he always do this, why does he pretend not to know - "You _know_ who I mean Dumbledore. _Black._ He gave them up to the Dark Lord – that's what the portraits said. I remember now! Was it him? Where is he Albus? Tell me now!"

"Severus." And now there was outright fear in Dumbledore's voice, "Don't you know?"

I gritted my teeth growled again at him - "If I didn't know, I wouldn't ask. Was it Black or not?"

Dumbledore's face lightened - he laughed! "Severus, how many of your memories did you remove?" He said this to me as if any of it was even remotely funny.

I closed my eyes. I thought I was going to explode. "Headmaster." I spoke as calmly as I could, "You know it doesn't work that way. Memories may be removed, but their echoes remain even when their exact image does not. Now, tell me – _Was __it __Black_?"

"Didn't you hear it from your Death Eater friends?" There was far too much amusement in his tone.

I clenched my fists. "I was on duty in the Hogshead. They kept me separated, remember?"

"And you heard nothing about what just happened? Why Severus, it is all anyone talks about!" Again he took far too much pleasure in telling me this.

I glared at him. "I was imprisoned in this office. You locked me in here, remember?"

"But you ran off." Dumbledore had to bring up, "That night just after it happened you were with me in this office, but you ran off. Certainly you learned of it then. In fact I thought you had gone to seek him out."

That did it. "I _told_ you what I was doing!" I was going to kill him. One more comment purposely made to provoke me and I _was_ going to kill him.

Dumbledore began to speak, "You told me nothing-"

But I cut him off. "I _told_ you! I told you what I had done and where I had gone. Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I trust you," he said, but I did not believe in his sincerity. I knew he was lying and I meant to prove it. I narrowed my eyes and began staring intrusively past his spectacles straight through to his shifty blue eyes. "Do not waste your efforts Severus. I am a far better Occlumens then you."

"I _doubt_ that." I said with no hesitation. No one, not even the great Albus Dumbledore can match me in the art of Occlumency. Not that it mattered. I did not need to employ Legilimens to ascertain the Headmaster's true feelings towards me. "You _do __not _trust me – admit it!"

"_Severus,__"_ he said sharply. Now Dumbledore was angry. He stood up from his desk and spoke with an authority I had rarely heard from him in all of my years at Hogwarts. "Based on your previous actions, I had deduced, that on that night, when you fled from this office, you meant either to seek revenge or to take your own life. You threatened this on several occasions, remember? And that, Severus, is _why_ I locked you in this office."

I dropped my head instantly. I had not been expecting such a low blow from Dumbledore. What could I say to that? Again I looked at the pattern on the red carpet. Not wanting to think on my destructive desires, I took in the golden embroidery, and was filled with a sudden hatred for it - for all of my surroundings. _No._ I had been verbally reduced to nothing by Crouch already – I was not going to allow Dumbledore to do it as well. I picked up my head, "Tell me where he is." I demanded, "Tell me what happened."

He just sighed and sat back down. He seemed suddenly to be too weary now to fight and gave in. "It was Sirius –"

I went off my head. "God damn it Dumbledore _I__ told__ you_ - I fucking told you! - I told you how many _fucking_ times when I was in school and you _didn__'__t_ listen!" I did not scream as anyone else would have done, but I'd raised my voice quite enough - "I told you over and over those fucking assholes were dangerous – I told you he was a violent, arrogant son of a bitch with no fucking conscience – why didn't you listen to me-"

"_Severus!__"_ Dumbledore yelled. He was deeply unnerved. I don't blame him. After all, he had never heard me speak in such a way – ever. I wish now I hadn't gone off so bad.

My ranting ceased when he yelled, but I must have looked utterly deranged with anger. My breathing was still heavy and erratic. I can vividly remember that my hands were shaking with rage. I could think on nothing else - "Where, is he." I nearly spit.

"He is in Azkaban, sent there with out so much as a trial." Dumbledore explained calmly as he eyed me with caution. "He was suspected, but before the Aurors could reach him, Peter Pettigrew found him. They dueled, though it was not in truth a duel so much as it was a massacre. Peter I am afraid was killed instantly, as were thirteen innocent Muggles."

It was too much to bear – "Why didn't you listen to me!" I cried out again, "I told you they were dangerous why didn't you listen to me! Why were you so quick to trust _them!_ Why didn't you ever trust me when I told you about all of the terrible things they were doing – even as they did them right under your very nose?"

"Severus, you are in no position to question my judgment," he said with finality. "Sirius Black was caught. He was caught, and was sent instantly - with out a trial to Azkaban, where he will remain for the rest of his life. So I strongly suggest Severus, that you leave him to his fate, and begin to accept yours."

How dare he! "You expect me to just _accept_ all of this? How can I just forget what he's done? How do I forget what _I_ have done! And how do you expect me I accept my fate when you Albus Dumbledore, who now governs my fate, have not even told me what my fate will _be!__"_ Honestly, what did he want of me?

He hung his head in his hands and said nothing. I had no idea what to make of this but was far past the point of patients to care if Dumbledore was upset. He was not going to leave me in the dark. "Well, what are your orders for me _now_ Headmaster?"

"Severus," he said with a weak smile, "Get some sleep. I find that when I am thoroughly upset by something, that there is nothing better then a good nights sleep to help clear one's head and refocus. Trusts me. Sleep now Severus, and by morning your anguish will be far lessoned."

"Sleep." I said flatly. Was he mental? "That is your answer? Just tell me now what you want from me."

"Severus you have not slept in days. Please listen," and for the first time, perhaps ever he spoke to me with what almost seemed like kindness. "There is a room, it has not been used in many years, but I've had Filch make up this room for you. It will be yours. It will be a home for you, while you remain here in the castle. Let me take you there now. You can rest, clean yourself up and begin to settle yourself permanently. In the morning we can discuss the future. Will that be all right Severus?"

I said nothing to this. And suddenly, I felt the room begin to spin. My emotions were betraying me, making me weak both physically and mentally. Exhaustion was beginning to overtake me, and yet still I fought it. He was not going to get one over on me. I had not yet finished with him.

"I want my memories back," was all I said in response.

"Of course. You may take them back from the Pensieve," he told me as he began to walk towards the door. "Replace your thoughts, and then we will head to your room."

He waited for me by the door. I took back my memories back from the Pensieve, but did not replace them. Not in front of Dumbledore. Instead I placed them into a flask as I watched the Headmaster with suspicion. He sighed heavily again, as I removed the final metallic memory. I covered the flask, and with that, we left the office.

What I must write now, I have long dreaded committing to parchment. But I must do it. And through the grace of God, perhaps I will not see these things in my every waking moment.

~Fragmented Memories and Nightmares

I felt angry, confused and exhausted, but as usual, I obediently I followed Dumbledore. He lead me down the corridors… once again we passed by the portraits who were all blessedly silent and asleep. We walked past walls, windows and rooms I had seen countless times as a student. Though I had once known them well, I was uncertain of where we were or where we were headed, and I did not care. Why should I care where Dumbledore lead me? This was not my life. Three years. Three years had passed since I had been a student. That was a lifetime ago… I had long since died, and none of this was real.

All that remained of me then was confusion and anger. That Dumbledore walked with me only furthered my unfocused fury. Why could that man not leave me alone in peace – was all I could think over and over. I knew I could have walked to the room if Dumbledore had simply told me where it was. Why can't Dumbledore just _explain_ things? Why must there always be these long drawn out dramatic sequences? Why could he not just leave me _alone!_

I cursed myself for not protesting - for allowing myself to be in that position. I cursed myself for having not run further that night… what a fool I had been. Had I known the full extent of Black's treachery - I _would_ have gone to kill him. I wanted to scream - but even in my rage I knew it would never have worked. I hate it when Dumbledore is right.

I thought about it, how wrong it all was. Even then, even as we walked - Black was still getting one over on me. I suddenly became aware of my intense jealousy towards Black - odd though it might seem - I envied the bastard. Black had been sent to Azkaban – with out even having to endure the humiliation of a trial! He was in Azkaban - when it was I who wanted to be imprisoned and punished for the part I had played in the betrayal. After all, I was just as guilty as he was. Pangs of guilt stabbed through me. I actually felt the ice-cold blades cut thought my limbs and my chest. I could not breathe. My remorse so consumed me that it overtook my rage. I nearly fell.

I hung my head and walked with shame behind Dumbledore. I did not deserve to live and yet the Headmaster was leading me to a room – a home. My feelings changed suddenly and I felt terrible for having harboring such intense hatred toward him. I wished that I had not said all those things to him earlier. I wished I had at least not lost my head… It was wrong – was it not? I should not feel such anger towards the man who had lead me to safety… and yet this was the same man who would not permit me to take my own life. By allowing me to live Dumbledore denied justice.

We reached a door. "Well, here we are," Dumbledore said to me as he turned the silver knob. I did not look inside the room. I did not raise my head at all. "I've had the elves bring up a plate of food for you. Its on the table by the bed, I suggest you eat something."

The thought of food actually pained me. I could only shake my head to say _no_. My hair covered my face, he of course could not see the disgusted expression upon it, nor could he possibly understand why I felt so sickened by the thought of eating.

"Very well," he sighed in defeat. He then gestured with one arm for me to enter the room as he continued to hold open the door. I begrudgingly walked forward into the dimly lit room. Dumbledore did not follow. "Get some rest and come to my office tomorrow morning at nine. Then we will discuss you future here at Hogwarts." With that, Dumbledore left me. The door clicked shut loudly behind me, and that was it. I was alone.

In that instant the most unbearable wave of terror came over me. It was as if the air had been sucked from the room. I was frozen with fear - unable to swallow or breathe for in that instant, I came to understand the true horror of what had just happened. I was alone. This room – this was to be my fate – this was to be my prison cell. I would be forced to live out the rest of my life – every long agonizing moment of it. I would be alone forever – either in this room or any other – surrounded by people or not, I would be alone – with out her. That had been my worst fear as a child – as a teenager. Even after I'd lost her to him I told myself – dear God – no-

I told myself – that as long as she lived… I can't bear it – I can't bear it now, and I couldn't bear it then… I wanted to die – my nightmare had become my reality –

What I had felt in the hallway was wrong! This _was_ real – this – the room - _this_ was my life. I couldn't bear it. I nearly collapsed at the realization of it, but I forced myself to remain upright. It was _my_ fault. I had killed Lily! She was everything to me! Even in the depths of my blackest moments – she was everything to me and – I – was the one who did it! I _killed_ her! I killed James – I killed Lily _Potter_! She was a mother! I had taken the parents from – dear god _the __baby_ –

The baby…. No… the boy - her son!

I broke down and began to sob. I understood everything. The room, the reality of it… This was Azkaban, and was both prisoner, and Dementor. I was about to force myself to relive my most painful memories was I not?

I removed the flask from my coat…. I was shaking, gasping for air trying desperately to steady myself for I felt I was near fainting. I was so sick to begin with - I wondered how I would ever mange the replacement of my memories… I walked to the bed - there beside it I would stand. This way, if I were to collapse, at least it would not be on to the floor.

I tried to take in the room in an effort to calm myself. It was not easy seeing as it was dark, and my head was still spinning. At first, all I could make out was my sickly pale hand as I grabbed the bedpost. I tried so hard to focus…

It was the light that I noticed first – for I knew it well. Beyond it there was nothing to see in the desolate room. The furniture was plain wooden and devoid of any objects. The windows were covered by heavy black drapes, which matched the heavy black hangings on the four-poster bed. The stone walls were completely barren save for _that__ light_. I couldn't take my eyes from it. It comforted me, as would the sight of an old friend. I felt it in my blood – running through my veins as if it had been a part of my life forever. My heart almost felt warmed. I stared at the blue green light that danced upon the walls, and for a moment I almost felt at peace. The reflections of the water from the lake, and I knew… I was somewhere near Slytherin. Home.

All too suddenly, memories of my school years flooded back to me. I heard them – the echoes of laugher… The voices of all those in my house with whom I'd been friends – I heard their voice laughter echo off the walls just as real and present as the blue light… They were happy. They were so young, and they were innocent and they - they were gone. The echoes of sound vanished in a flash and all was silence again – for they were gone. All of them. I might have come home to Slytherin – to Hogwarts – but every single one of them was gone from me forever. I was alone. And I could put it off no longer.

I drew my wand, removed the silver strand from the flask and made to replace my first memory. I held it in my eyes for a moment. This one I needed to see - to relive first. I had wanted to see it desperately for what seemed like hours. _The __lie_. The false memory created for the trial had disgusted me to no end. Finally I was free, and so I replaced the real memory. The fiction was overwritten and the truth began to flash before me. This was real and no matter how much it pained me to see it again – _this_ had been my life. I needed to see it – for _him_.

There it was… as clear as if it were still happening. The group of teenagers all sat together in the Slytherin Common Room. But no one was yelling, not yet. And this time a sixth figure sat with the five boys. Someone spoke with intense authority over them – over us – it was not Evan but _Avery_. Avery was carrying on and on about his father's friend. Evan sat beside me while I sat silent - starring into space, my thoughts were of nothing but Lily…as usual. As usual, Evan was making faces mocking Avery when he wasn't looking and trying to get me to laugh. It worked, but it was not the faces that had forced me to laugh. Evan had fallen off his chair somehow. Now every one laughing, even Avery. Evan got up and bowed. He didn't mind. He was used to being the punch line to our jokes and he rather enjoyed it.

He was clumsy and not very good at magic, but prided himself on his ability to amuse the others through his shortcomings. Was his family not second to the Blacks in terms of prestige, wealth and power, he would certainly have been a Hufflepuff. That mousy haired boy had not a mean bone in his body. He was a brother to me, and I loved him.

I had loved all of my Slytherin friends – as much as I could love anyone who was not my blessed Lily… They had taken me in when all others had forsaken me. Even Lily herself had pushed me away, all be it with good reason. I was alone with no hope, but Evan Rosier, Wilkes, Mulciber Avery, and his cousin, had made me part of their group. I once considered them family, the siblings I never had. Their friendship meant more to me than anyone could ever know… I smiled in the present and my eyes filled with tears at the thought of them.

Suddenly the memory changed. We were in Hogsmeade. It was late at night and we had snuck out of school again. Another night of drinking and smoking pot. Another night of listening to Muggle rock music and committing stupid - petty crimes in the village. The guys were tying lead weights to brooms outside of the Hogshead while I was doubled over with laughter. As usual I was too stoned and couldn't stop laughing long enough to help the others.

Suddenly we were all standing around a fire in the woods. Everyone was singing along to a Doors song - badly. Evan charmed the radio and suddenly Pink Floyd was playing. Where Evan Rosier, the Pure - Blood from one of the oldest Wizarding lines had learned so much about Muggle music we never knew. But the whole gang, even Avery - the most anti - Muggle among us had agreed that Muggle music was the greatest gift Muggles had ever given to the world.

Another flash - suddenly we were all together in the Slytherin Common Room listening to David Bowie. It was my birthday. The others were getting me drunk. They were all laughing and singing "Beauty and the Beast," as loud as they could in my face. I loved David Bowie, "That man is no mere Muggle" we always used to say. I never got through "Low" or "Heroes" with out an intense surge of gratitude towards Evan for having introduced him to us.

The memory changed and now we were in the Common Room again. But this time no one was laughing. Someone was yelling - not Evan but Avery. This was it. This was the real memory - the one that had been tampered with to trick those at the trial into thinking Evan was guilty in order to protect that bastard Avery.

There was something else too, a girl. She had been completely absent from the false memory, and yet she had been in every single one of my true memories. She laughed, drank and sang with us every time - but all memory of her had been removed with good reason…

She now sat beside Evan, looking as terrified as he did. I was just as distraught... It wasn't so much the yelling or the insults Avery threw at us that had upset me so deeply. In truth I could barely make out the hateful words that Avery shouted. I felt completely crushed and betrayed by Avery, whom I'd come to look up to as our leader. It was then that I finally came to understand. All that time, Avery had been no different from him - my tyrannical father. It was partly due to _that_ one that I had turned to them in the first place. They were… supposed to be my new family. But there they all were, screaming and distress. And just it was in Spinners End – he screamed – at her.

Avery threatened the girl. I could no longer stand by and do nothing. I resented my mother for having done so when I was young - when I had been screamed at in such ways… I was determined to help the friends I had left… But it was Evan who stood up and defied Avery, not me. I tried to defy Avery, but the words had stuck in my throat.

Evan. The silly - scapegoat Evan, was fighting Avery. He wasn't doing very well. Avery was verbally lashing out at him. Evan motioned for us to run, which after some hesitation we all did. And that was on of the last times I ever saw him.

Evan was no Death Eater, leading us astray. He in the end had been the hero of the group. Avery had convinced us months earlier to go to The Dark Lord. It was no act of "Typical Teenage Stupidity," as Crouch had said… The real reason I had turned to them was far worse…

The flood of memories was almost finished, but not before one last horrific flash could play itself out. It was Hogsmeade many months later. I stood pinning Wilkes to a wall. I myself was pinioned by shock as we both stared down to the street below. My hand was pressed hard into Wilkes's mouth to keep him from screaming. I pressed harder as if this could some how hold off my own cries of horror. Wilkes and I were frozen – still in disbelief. There were seconds, only seconds and a blinding flash. It was over before it had even started… Evan lay dead in the Hogsmeade High street.

I returned to myself. _"__Fuck__ you__ Moody,__"_ I remember saying to the darkness as the vision faded away. I still stood in the stark room, drenched in sweat and shaking violently. My voice cracked from lack of use, but I called out to Evan… to beg his forgiveness for what I had done to his memory. Oh God, how I had defiled all that remained of him for the sake of Avery's undeserved liberty.

The Ministry doesn't care about the innocent among the dead, or the guilty among the free, only the illusion of control. I cursed them all again, wiped the tears from my eyes and pulled my hair back from my face – I had to get a hold of myself - I needed to take her back.

I had removed nearly all trace of her, lest I endanger another woman by reveling her existence to the Ministry. I could not bear the thought of having destroyed another life… Free from prying eyes I drew the next set of memories up from the flask and placed the tip of my wand between my eyes. The memories slowly seeped into me.

A tall, thin girl with long black hair and shocking amethyst eyes stood with the four Slytherin boys as I descended the steps to them. She was smiling.

Tisiphone. Tisiphone Torchwood… that was her name. Another flash and she stood in the corner of the Potions Dungeon unnoticed by all. Even I had barely noticed her. It wasn't until that day in class that I saw how she was brewing solutions with shocking ease. I looked away just as I caught her look up at me form the corner of my eye.

The memory changed, I was in the Common Room trying to study. Avery was trying to get me to sneak out of school, they all were. I was too shy to accept their invitation - but she stood over me and spoke softly with a sultry voice, "Just come Sev."

Suddenly I stood in a dark room with her. We were locked in an embrace, kissing awkwardly.

The memory changed and we were in Hogsmeade. Evan was in the midst of pulling some prank. It was dark and we were leaning on each other laughing. _"__Evan __you __little __shit!__" _we both yelled.

Suddenly we were in her dorm room. Tisiphone was doing things to me that would make most of the Death Eaters blush. There was another flash. Again we were in her dorm room. Again we were engaged in an act of violent sex. Another flash and now a small serpent crept gracefully down from my spine, onto the bed and became a woman. Tisiphone wrapped her human arms around me and pulled me on to the bed. I needed no prompting. I took her, she cried out then slapped me in the face.

Now I was in my dorm room filled with a mixture of remorse, shame and desire – for her for Lily. Oh Tisiphone, and why I had done it… I knew Lily was in love with James. They had been dating for ages. I had turned to Tisiphone, whom I did not love in an attempt to alleviate the terrible emotions that were eating me alive. So often I felt I was being punished for my anger and jealously. I convinced myself that Tisiphone, who's aggression matched mine, was surely sent to me as form of vengeance for my infidelity to Lily. Sin, that's what I always called it… what we did together.

It wasn't until our last few days together that I finally understood. Tisiphone was innocent. She had been a sweet girl, just as hurt and just as I had been… and in my own distress I could not see it. I had used her to get back at Lily. I used her to hurt myself. I hurt poor Tisiphone, who all along had been under the control of her tyrannical cousin Avery. And he had taken her with us… he tricked her into becoming a Death Eater against her will, just as he had the others.

Now the memory came to me again. Avery stood shouting at us all in the Common Room. I had fled to my room where my roommates were packing their trunks. Our time at Hogwarts was nearly up. Suddenly she burst threw my door crying. I lay awake, uncomfortably in my bed that night as she lay in my arms. We both feared the future. Once we left the school we would be dispatched on our accursed missions for The Dark Lord though neither of us wanted to carry out our orders...

We had been kindred spirits, but I came to understand that too late. She would have been a good friend to me. A friend, for I could never feel for her as I do Lily... But even then in my dark days of school I knew I could not allow anyone to get to close to me…

Another memory came to me, and I was packing. The Felix Felicis. I had tried to give it to Lily. I had won it… that potion had been my last hope to win her back. My last chance and once again she refused me. Upon seeing it again, I wanted to destroy the fluid but was gripped with a sudden surge of responsibility.

I blamed myself for Tisiphone's having been forced to become a Death Eater after all. I blamed myself for everything. If she could be saved…

"Take this!" I was saying as she cried out in protest.

She pushed my hands back, "I won't go with out you!" I forced the Felix Felicis back into her hands, she cried out again, I'll wait for you – I'll come back for you, please don't - I can't take it!"

I told her to use it to escape from the Death Eaters. She continued to protest, but I insisted, "Take this and run."

That was the last time I ever saw her. We left school, became spies and I never saw or heard from her again. It was likely she had died, just as Evan had… How many nameless, insignificant to The Dark Lord or the Ministry had fallen? No one noticed her in life, if she had died, no one would have cared - certainly not her bastard of a cousin. She was nothing more then leverage to him, just as Evan had been.

And just like Evan, she was gone. One last memory left. One final flash, and I was in Dumbledore's office crying. Dumbledore had just walked out.

And that's when I realized what had happened in that hour when I'd escaped from the office….

I had collapsed and was crying in a crumpled heap on the office floor. I was shaking, I could barely breathe. I had killed Lily Evans. It was my fault. I had told the Dark Lord - I had marked her for death.

Lily was dead and it was my fault. James was dead and it was my fault. Evan was dead, and I hadn't helped. Tisiphone. She surely was dead too, and it was – but what if it had worked! What if that vial of Felix Felicis had been enough to secure her escape? If she had done what I had suspected… she would have… _Obliviate_ - That was the only chance she would have had. It was a long shot but if she had been successful and anyone found out about her – then she would be dead. I could never mention of even think on her again.

_Fuck!_ She said she would wait for me! She said she would come back and wait for me at that fucking tree in the woods just outside of Hogsmeade where we used to snog! If she was crazy enough to come out of hiding to find me – if anyone saw her – she was a Death Eater – she'd be sent to Azkaban. What if Dumbledore was right, what if the Dark Lord were to return – she'd be dead. _No!_ No - I would not have her blood on my hands as well!

I had to warn her in some way. I had to send her away for good. I had hurt every single person I had ever gotten close to. I'd hurt her enough as it was. I had to explain somehow, I had to say good-bye. At the very least I owed her that much. Dumbledore had gone – so I escaped from the office and ran.

I disapparated first to my old bedroom in Spinners End…. I was careful not to wake my parents. I have not seen them since I had been in school… long before I ran away to become a Death Eater. I wanted to see them as little as they wanted to see me, of that I was certain. My journal I'd kept with me at all times, but the record – I'd left all such things behind me when after I had left school. But there it was just as I'd left it. I grabbed the thing from under the dirty old mattress then disapparated back to the woods.

Out by the tree I dug in the earth with my bare hands. I frantically wrote one final entry then buried my journal and left it for her to find. What I wrote in my maniacal state that night I can scarcely remember now. I don't know if she would understand, or if she would even find it… I am absolutely horrified to think of anyone reading my innermost sick fucking thoughts from those days. Only in such distress would I ever do such a stupid thing as to expose my self so horrifically – and yet that was the point of the action. Upon reading my sick words she would certainly never come back to seek me out again. Now in here in this room I regret the manner in which I tried to warn her – to somehow explain everything to her, but it's too late now... I can only hope she lived – and will not share what she has read – _ever._

I scratched at the dirt to cover the thing. Over the freshly turned earth I placed a Muggle object, David Bowie's "Heroes" - which I knew that if found no Wizard would fully understand. No one except for her, it was her favorite…

It is done. It was over forever with that act. I stood up, but I was too weak to disapparate, so I ran from the spot as far and as fast as I could. I'd run for several minutes – but he caught me.

"What were you doing Severus!" Dumbledore was screaming.

I'd nearly collapsed in his arms. I could not speak to answer, I was sobbing too hard…

"Where were you running – what were you doing Severus!" Dumbledore yelled again shaking me to get an answer…

Through sobs I told him – "I had to say good bye-" with that I could say no more. He never believed me…

I felt like I had fallen fast and crashed onto a hard surface - but I was standing in the room again in the present…. Tears streamed down my face. All the precautions I will have to take in keeping her existence hidden from now on… and there will be no way of knowing if she even lived at all. "God help her…" I spoke to the empty room. And with that I must never think on her again.

I was clutching the bedpost - fighting to stay upright... I allowed myself to sob for a minute or two longer - the flask that lay on the bed was still full of silvery fluid.

I tried to steady myself as I had before but with far more difficulty. I found my wand in the darkness where it lay, black on black against the blankets. I reached for the memory filled flask. The rest I knew I would have to take in rapid succession. These would hit hardest. Taking them all in one shot would be excruciating but it was the only way - for if I stopped it would be nearly imposible to start up again. I took a deep breath and prepared for it as best I could.

There was a flash and suddenly Potter and Black were chasing me. Lupin and Pettigrew were not far behind. If I had only some way to stop them... The scene changed. I was practicing Stupefy in my room. The flies fell one by one, only to reawaken moments later. My aim was perfect why – _why_ couldn't I hit when it counted?

Another flash, I was still in my bedroom but now I was cowering by the doorway. He – that one - was screaming about money again. I heard something crash. My mother was crying - calling out to the blessed Virgin, but he screamed right back. "You don't fool me you are just as evil as the day we met! How dare you call to _her!__"_

Suddenly I was at school. My parents had forgotten my birthday again. I was cold. I pretended it was any other day. I walked out of my dorm room.

The Dark Lord had my arm. The pain was unbearable. The red-eyed savage was pulling my wrist, burning my flesh with a white-hot knife of a wand. It took all of my strength not to cry out – in the memory and in reality.

Another flash. I stood upon the floor of a far better kept living room than my own in Spinner's End. The Buckingham Nicks record was playing. I remembered the song well. "Long Distance Winner." Lily was trying to teach me how to dance. I far was taller than her, and she was far more graceful than I. I tripped over my own feet, we both laughed.

Suddenly I was alone. Lily was gone. She hated me for the horrible thing I had said to her. I hated myself. In my agony I cast a spell I had never cast or even heard of before. The visceral spell tore open my skin. I was bleeding from my chest and my arms. In terror and shame I healed the wounds. I had cast the counter spell with out thinking, just as I had the spell when I'd cut myself.

I was working myself sick in school. I was staying late hours after class, staying up late to read and was not sleeping. Suddenly I was in N.E.W.T. Potions. Years of practice prepared me and I'd won a vial of Felix Felicis. The vial of liquid luck would be my peace offering to Lily. I felt certain that all of my hard work – all of my sacrifice and efforts to be Virtuous would win her back. It was my last hope. Lily refused it.

I was with my friends in the woods again. I wasn't laughing anymore. This was no teenage party with pot and music. This was a meeting of Death Eaters. Lily had finally abandoned me forever and I had given up on life completely. The Dark Lord had seen me alone and had seen my hopelessness – he was using it against me - convincing me to join him. In a horrid whispered voice he spoke, seducing me completely, _"__Will __you __become__ one__ of __my__ loyal __Death __Eaters?__"_

What else was there? I faced a future alone with out love, friends or a purpose. "I will," I told him.

Suddenly I sat alone on a swing set. I was a child again, and I was crying. Lily ran up from behind me and took my hand, "Sev!" I looked up at her. I was startled but thrilled to see her. "I thought you weren't coming today!" The sun seemed to radiate through her thick red hair. "Mummy said I could if I finished cleaning my room." I was smiling - we both were as we started to swing. Our laughter filled the spring air…

Slightly older now, we ran though a field together through tall grass near a river. With a flash we stood in Potions arguing over Wormwood. She teased me, pulled my hair and said I was wrong. I pulled hers back added the wormwood and proved her wrong. We laughed.

I was alone and cold in the Hogshead standing by a door. I could hear muffled whispers on the other side…

I was with Lily again. We sat beneath a tree studying together for our exams. Now I was alone by the tree. Seconds later found me hanging upside down by my ankle – Potter and the others were chanting. Their screams filled my ears fueling my fury but I couldn't break free. I threw a strange hex at Potter. I hurled insults at Lily who hurled them right back. Potter had me sprawled on the ground.

I stood before The Dark Lord. He seemed pleased with me for once.

Now James was sprawled on the ground, dead upon a flight of stairs. I was running down a debris filled hallway. I pushed open a door –

"_No!__"_ I cried out this time in reality. I don't know what it was – but had collapsed and was laying on the floor. I nearly wretched as I tried to push myself up. I fell and cried out again. It was all I could see…. I couldn't breathe - my heart was racing so hard it hurt… I slammed my eyes shut – I pulled at my hair – I still don't know what it was, but it wouldn't stop! This unbearable surge of fear, guilt and horror – and it wouldn't stop! I couldn't' take it.

Whatever it was had hold of me. The horror over took me - I was on fire - adrenaline rushed through my veins and I fled from the room. Slytherin – Slytherin if I was near Slytherin then I knew where I was. I knew where _it_ was I told myself as I tore off blindly down the dark corridors.

I fumbled along, frantically feeling my way until at last I came to the wooden door. It was dark but I knew it well. Slughorn's Stores. I could open it. Of that I was certain for I had done so many times as a student …Oh all the times I had taken potions when Slughorn wasn't looking so that I might continue my studies on weekends when the classrooms were not open to me…. So desperate had I been for something to do to pass the lonely weekends. Slughorn never found out, and so often I felt guilty for having stolen from his stores….

Not anymore. I was far past caring. I ripped my wand from my sleeve - _"__Alohomora!__"_ The door opened and I threw myself through_.__ "__Lumos.__"_ I ran to the shelves and found what I was looking for in seconds. I snatched that glass bottle from the shelf, held it in my hand than froze. I had come for a solution to silence my thoughts, and yet what if I did not stop there? I looked around the cramped, closed off space… it was full of chemical exits… I could do it. What was stopping me? I felt it again - the terrible unfounded anxiety. I wouldn't think, I couldn't allow myself to... I just clutched the glass bottle tighter and ran back to the room.

I nearly kicked open the door to the room. I saw the tray of food, grabbed the glass of water from it and threw the fluid it onto the stone floor. I stood over the bed again and pulled the dropper from the bottle. It was nearly two in the morning. Nine in the morning… I knew exactly how much Draught of Living Death to take… I measured it into the glass. Again I wondered why I didn't take more – the anxiety – that dread – it came to me again. No more hesitation, I swallowed.

The effect was instantaneous. The draught hit me like a blunt object to the back of the skull and I fell forward onto the bed. Me eyes rolled back into my head and all became blackness. I was still breathing... I was aware of that but not much else…

Through the darkness, her voice echo from somewhere far away. She was laughing. "Sev, you look silly!" She laughed again and said, "Do I look as silly as you do?" White light, her image began to flood the emptiness around me, and then I could see her. Lily, young and innocent – she was wearing an overly large white shirt. She waved her arms like a white dove flapping its wings. I almost told her. I almost wished I had… but I remembered that day, and I had been too afraid she that she would laugh if I had told her…

"_No, you don't look as silly as I do. You look like an angel…"_

At that I blacked out…and at that I must stop writing for at least a few hours.


	3. Chapter 3

~Sunday 8 November 1981 - Late Evening, My Room

They say that pain will lessen after a long nights sleep, but that is a lie…

~The Next Morning

Six dark, dreamless hours had transpired, but the Draught of Living Death was wearing off. When I came to the next morning, I was laying faced down across bed. It was the still made up. Only half of my body was on the thing, my legs were draped oddly off the edge of the mattress. I had clearly passed out in that position, and had not moved since doing so.

I tried to open my eyes, but the potion still had hold of me. I lay upon the bed still unable to move. I fell back to sleep for a moment, but then I heard the voice of an angelic young girl…_her_ voice.

Lily was calling out to me, "Fine. You teach me how to make twigs fall and I'll teach you how to fly."

At that my eyes shot open. I pushed myself up and frantically crawled backwards across the bed until I felt my shoulders slam hard into the huge wooded headboard. I ignored the pain. It was only physical pain after all… I drew my knees into my chest - I was losing it. I was shaking and crying just as hysterically as I had the night before. As soon as I'd woken, everything came crashing back to me. The potion had only delayed it for a few hours -

Profound sorrow, remorse, anger, fear and anxiety all ran through me at once. It was so horrible – I didn't even know what I was feeling. I was curled up for several minutes slamming my head against the wall before I could calm myself enough to at least complete a thought.

I knew Dumbledore wouldn't tell me anything when I would with him at nine. He would be evasive as usual and I would be left uncertain and afraid. So there was nothing for my mounting anxieties. The pain of loss and remorse were too much to bear. My anger and hatred were all I had to calm myself. So I allowed my rage to consume me, and finally I could focus – on him.

I couldn't get past it. How could he do it? Black had been her friend – _his_ friend. Yes he was a horrible, insolent git when we were in school but _this!_ My sin was terrible, but Black had _knowingly_ given them all over to The Dark Lord. Why? How?

I was guilty! My actions had taken two lives and ruined another. I had committed countless other sins, petty crimes and yes, as Crouch had said I was guilty of "Typical teenage stupidity."

But this? Typical Teenage Stupidity! Black being a savage bully – Black bragging about his many sexual exploits fine - but Typical Teenage Stupidity does not make one knowingly betray and kill their best friends!

I was seething - I was actually shaking. So strong was my rage - I actually believed in that instant, that through sheer force off will I could disapparate into Azkaban – grab Black and explode on the spot. My hatred would incinerate the both of us completely - not even ash would remain, the both of us erased - dispersed forever into oblivion.

It would be fitting. We both deserved it. Typical Teenage Stupidity did not come close to excusing my actions either. It was my fault that I gave up and joined the Death Eaters. Had I the strength, I would have done what needed to be done long ago. Had I not been so afraid I would have taken my own life and none of this would ever have happened...

I remembered looking down at the bottle… there was still enough Draught of Living Death left to do it. I was still full of burning hatred for Black as I reached for it, but just as I did, the memory of a much younger Black came to me. It was one of the early Hogsmeade Weekends. I remembered watching Black as he stood in the high street yelling insults at a dark haired young woman. "No!" Black yelled insolently at her, "And you can tell my mother that I'm not coming for Christmas either."

It was _her_. Bellatrix Lestrange. I had not known her at the time, and thankfully in the years since I have barely spoken to her. Insane, sadistic bitch of a woman… I have no reason to doubt the stories they tell of her. All the terrible things she's done – the Muggles she has tortured and killed… and laughed about. I've seen enough of her brutality – having watched her commit horrific acts of violence upon animals and even her own husband. Of course he deserved it - being just as sadistic as she. So if Black was in prison, I thought, then where the fuck where _they_?

Where the fuck was her sister – or worse her maniacal husband Lucius? That sick fuck. I hate myself still for having once looked up to him in when I was in school. I have since seen Lucius do horrible, disgusting - _unspeakable_ things. He had not been as violent as the Lestranges - no one was that violent… still what scared me most about Lucius was his cold detachment when he tortured. Oh God how I hated the way he ordered people around, the way everyone did just as he said. Where the fuck was he? And suddenly I knew, with out having been told. That fucking psychotic git got off. The Ministry would surely have turned a blind eye to one so influential as he. Fucking hell – they were all out there still.

Out there still… and yet, I knew exactly where they all were – every last one. I knew what I had to do.

I'd practically kicked in the door. "Severus, you're early!" Dumbledore wasn't expecting me. He seemed near shock when he answered the door, but from the look of him, the Headmaster had clearly been up and busy in his office for a quite a while.

I stormed into the office in silence, unafraid, but still unable to raise my head. I stopped and stood before the Headmaster's desk with my hands behind my back while I waited for Dumbledore to sit down and take his place. He took his time. I was certain he did this on purpose. It was almost as frustrating as the half mocking tone in which he spoke to me, "Well, what is it that couldn't wait until nine?"

"I want to kill them." I said.

"Kill them?" And Dumbledore wasn't smiling anymore. "Who Severus?"

I was so aggravated by Dumbledore's inability to grasp the obvious. "Them," I said in a gravelly whisper that even I was frightened by… "I want to kill The Lestranges. I want to kill Lucius Malfoy. I want to kill Nott and McNare." "Severus!" Dumbledore was clearly disturbed by my cold sincerity and made to stop it. But I could not be stopped. I spoke as if there had been no interruption. "I want to kill Rabastan. I want to kill Crabbe and Goyle. I want to kill all of the remaining Death Eaters."

Conviction returned to him, "You would even kill your former friends from Slytherin?" Dumbledore asked.

"If you asked it of me," I said plainly.

Dumbledore almost grinned, "I would not ask such a thing of you Severus."

I fell silent for a moment. I was not going to let him get to me. I blinked a few times, but my face remained frozen and emotionless. When I spoke again I made certain that I was composed and articulate. "You asked what I would give you in return for your aid. I said I would give you anything, and I meant it. Ask it of me. I could do it Dumbledore. I _should_ be the one to do it. I know them. I know who they are. I know where to find them. You know how simple it would be."

Dumbledore had barely allowed me to finish, "No Severus, it would not be so simple."

"It would be." I insisted. How could Dumbledore not see it? "They trust me. They would never even see it coming."

"It?" Dumbledore repeated in an irksome tone. "And what Severus would – _it__ – _be?" What would you do? How do you plan on killing, as you say, _all_ of the remaining Death Eaters?"

"I'd use the Killing Curse," I said with no hesitation. I lowered my head and glared at him fiercely through down cast eyes. I wanted him to know how serious I was.

Dumbledore was unmoved. "Have you ever used an unforgivable curse Severus?" He did not give me a chance to answer. He had not meant to. "And how do you plan on killing _all_ of them? For certainly if you did some how succeed in murdering even one of the remaining Death Eaters, you would immediately be hunted down by the others and killed yourself."

"Yes. But if I did manage to kill even one of them, it will have been worth it," my speech was calm and collected, I had to convince him... "If I were to succeed, two evil lives will have been ended. Justice will have been carried out. It is perfect. Dumbledore, why do you not understand?"

"I understand Severus. I understand perfectly. Your plan would not work." He was smiling, grinning from ear to ear.

"Why, do you say that?" I was beginning to crack. For the first time all morning the words had stuck in my throat. I'd almost _stammered_.

Dumbledore leaned across the desk, smiled and finally explained his reasoning, "Because you are not capable of it. You are not a killer Severus."

What? I felt as though someone had thrown ice-cold water over me. Not a killer? How could he say that! But he'd gotten to me finally, and I was completely dumbfounded. For once I was at a total loss for words and could only shake my head in disagreement.

And so he sat back, victorious in his ornate thrown of a chair. "Now then… tell me, have you ever cast an unforgivable curse?"

"I have cast terrible curses," I said and I know my voice revealed my apprehension when I spoke… I must be more careful in future, for the moment I drop my guard I begin to unravel completely.

"That's not what I asked," Dumbledore said. I could see him sensing my weakness.

"There's a first time for everything." My emotions continued to betray me, for in my voice was frustration and unease. "I could cast the Killing Curse on every last one of them."

"No, you couldn't. You are not a killer Severus, as I have already said. I have watched you since you were boy, when you first came to Hogwarts." Dear God - what did Dumbledore mean by that? This came as a shock and I was deeply unnerved. What was he getting at? I shifted uncomfortably as Dumbledore continued. "Yes Severus, all those years I saw everything. All the many times James, and Sirius attacked you, as you said under my very nose. All those times Severus, all those chances and yet, you never fought back. You _let_ them attack you."

"That's not true!" I protested, it sounded desperate, "I fought back – I cast curses on them, made their toenails grow out, sealed their mouths shut. I dropped branches onto Black - I hexed Potter – I cut his face once!"

"But you didn't _mean_ it Severus," He seemed pleased to hear my distress.

I gritted my teeth and growled, "Yes I _did_!"

"No. You didn't." Dumbledore was quick to say, "Was your retaliation in anyway equal to the offenses they committed upon you?"

I had to think on it for a moment, "…No but I didn't…" I stopped. I wanted to say that I hadn't wanted to stoop to their level, but that wasn't true and I knew it. Black and Potter were fearless in a way that I could never be - and to my great shame, I looked to them with envy because of it. My heart sank at the thought. Of course, Dumbledore, git that he is - was clearly aware of this fact. And I knew he would forever use it against me.

"Didn't what?" he asked after some time, promoting me to complete my thought. I did not answer.

"Nothing,' I said. I felt I was admitting defeat.

"You see Severus," Dumbledore began darkly, "I was warned about you too."

I felt as though I'd been stabbed in the heart. The other students mocked me and called me an evil Slytherin. There may have been rumors that circulated about my having been dangerous, but all that was the cruelty of children – at least that's what I had always thought. The Headmaster _had_ actually been warned about me? Dear God… Had I been so dangerous, even then – as a child?

"Yes Severus, I was," Dumbledore said, even with out use of Legilimens. "I was told on many occasions that you knew more hexes then most of the older students, even some of the staff. I had my eye on you. But for all the hexes you knew, you never defended yourself. If you'd truly meant to retaliate against them, you would have cast the Bat - Bogey Hex or at least a Stinging Jinx. You would have punched and kicked back when they punched and kicked you, but you never did."

I wanted to protest. I wanted desperately to tell Dumbledore that he was wrong, that I had fought back ruthlessly on many occasions, but… I couldn't. Even for the few times I had fought back, I could not find the words to relate my actions. My heart was beating furiously but I struggled to keep my face cold and still, lest I let on just how badly Dumbledore had hit a nerve.

"You are not a fighter. Angry yes, capable of dark acts, perhaps - but you are _not_a violent person Severus, and you are certainly no killer." Dumbledore stopped speaking and looked at me for a moment. "I know what kind of a person you are Severus. And if I thought in anyway otherwise, you would not be in this school." The gravity in the Headmaster's voice was almost too much to bear.

I was suddenly gripped by a dark fear. So Dumbledore did consider such things. Was he truly not as trusting as he let on? He didn't trust me. He had practically admitted to it. Was it only a matter of time until Dumbledore saw the _true_ darkness in my heart?

He is right not to trust me. I _am_ dangerous. I am violent. I am not a thug as were Potter and Black, but I am a killer. Everyone I have ever touched has been killed or hurt badly. I am an accident. I am an explosion waiting to happen. I was born for one single purpose – destruction. How dare Dumbledore deny me my destiny! At that, my nerve returned. I was not going to let Dumbledore's head games get to me. "Let me do it. Dumbledore. Let me kill them."

Dumbledore sighed and hung his head in his hands. "Severus…" he began wearily. He said nothing for a few minutes. I could no longer look at him. I suddenly understood why Dumbledore had been up when I'd first come to the office. He must have been awake and working all night. He had not slept. I felt a sudden twinge of guilt but it was dashed the moment the headmaster spoke again. "Severus, you promised to protect her son. This is not meant to be about _you_ Severus, it is suppose to be about him. What you are asking is for me to let you run off and become a vigilante. You seek to do this for revenge, not for him."

"I _am_doing it for him," I told him. "If I kill off The Dark Lord's remaining followers there will be no more threat."

"What about Voldemort?" He said with out any fear or hesitation at the word, "What do you plan to do when he comes back?"

I rolled my eyes, I hadn't the patients to hide my annoyance, "If the Dark Lord comes back I'll kill him too." I said sarcastically. I still do not believe for a second that The Dark Lord will truly return. Dumbledore is being ridiculous. Yet even still, I do not dare speak of him with out euphemism as does Dumbledore.

"Enough, Severus," Dumbledore said with finality. He hastily stood up from his desk to emphasize his point. "I would not permit you to do something so foolish now as to take on Voldemort by yourself, just as I will not permit you to go after even _one_ of his Death Eaters alone. I have no intention of granting you your death wish."

…. I'm not sure what shocked me more - the statement, or the bluntness with which it had been spoken. I wanted to say something, but what could I say to such a thing?

"That outcome would be most undesirous…" Dumbledore trailed off, turned his head and gazed out the window. "I think deep down you understand that sentiment."

"No." I insisted. "I don't."

Dumbledore whipped his head and glared at me. "Than why haven't you done it yet?"

"Done what?" I gripped my wrist nervously behind my back. Why was the headmaster so intent on exposing my every weakness?

You know what I mean." Dumbledore said fixing me with his cunning blue eyes. Why did Dumbledore have to choose _that_ moment to finally be forthcoming?

There was a long painful pause. I stared down at the carpet as I had done so often the night before. I dug the toes of my boots into the floor. It wasn't so much the shame that I could not bring myself to take my own life - though it has long troubled me. In that moment, I just felt so terribly disarmed and ashamed that Dumbledore _knew_. But did he? The Headmaster knew that in recent days that I had attempted unsuccessfully to kill myself, but he couldn't possibly know that I have been contemplating suicide since before my fifth year at Hogwarts. He _couldn__'__t_. Dumbledore is not as omniscient as he projects himself to be. I steeled myself and lifted my head to speak, "What would you have me do then, if I am not to be an assassin? I do not see any other way in which I can keep the boy safe."

"I have my plans," he said grinning devilishly. Fantastic. He was being cheeky again.

Fear and hesitation had left me completely. "Do your plans involve assassinating the remaining Death Eaters or do you plan to do as Crouch has done and allow them to run rampant?"

"Do you plan on judging as Crouch does?" Dumbledore asked.

The Headmaster was trying to get under my skin again but this time I was ready. "_No._ I do not judge based on convenience, only from what I have seen with my own eyes. I have seen all those whom I have named torture, rape and kill both Muggles and Wizards alike. Do you really think it wise to leave them to their own devices?"

"I am afraid you are going to have to permit me to do just that." He calmly said to me. "We needn't worry ourselves too much about their further crimes, for I doubt the would have the courage to even consider such acts with out there protection of their master. Further more, as you have stated, you know who they are and where they are. I will be able to set a watch upon them myself. You did give me the complete list of names just the other day did you not?"

"Yes," I did not like the inflection in Dumbledore's voice. Of course I hadn't given him all the names, for there was still one I withheld… Did the Headmaster know I was hiding the existence of a former unwitting follower? So great was my paranoia and lack of trust in Dumbledore after he failed to protect the Potters that I began using Occlumency in that moment to conceal Tisiphone Torchwood. I desperately hoped that Dumbledore remained oblivious to her, but the way he spoke made me nervous. I fidgeted and began rubbing at my neck and my soar shoulders. It hurt. My muscles ached at the slightest touch, and only then did I realize just how soar I was.

I looked toward the wooden chair in the corner of the room. I knew I had been sitting there for ages - but had I really been _that_ tense? Every muscle in my body ached. Jesus Christ - had I really done that to myself? There was no denying it. I had. Four days of sitting silent and dead. Enough. I had allowed myself to be distracted for far too long. I tore my eyes from the spot and glared back at Dumbledore. "Do you plan on telling me what your plan is then Dumbledore?" Of course the git did not answer right away. "Well, what was it that had to wait until nine?"

He was deliberately delaying his speech, but finally he began, "You will of course recall professor Slughorn?"

I haven't been out of school _that_ long. "Yes, I remember Professor Slughorn."

No reaction to my sarcasm, "Well Severus, I am sorry to say he will be retiring at the end of next week. It is my wish that you take up his post as Potions Master."

"_What!__"_ What in God's name was he saying?

No reaction to my panic, "I am appointing you as his successor. You will recall that Voldemort once requested that you should take up the position of Defense Against The Dark Arts Teacher?"

"Yes vaguely, but what has that got to do with anything!" I said in protest. I was at a total loss, "The Dark Lord made a strange request of that nature, and I did report it to you, but that was _ages _ago! Even then it did not make any sense in the grand scheme of things. What good could _possibly_ come of my accomplishing that act - which is not even what you are asking me to do – you are asking me to become _Potions __Master_, which does not make any sense at all – "

I was starting to ramble but he cut me off. "Its perfect Severus, don't you understand?"

"Stop using my words against me!" I blurted out.

"Why ever not, when you have done the same with mine." Oh he was so smug. He was so content with himself as I was growing ever more frantic.

"That doesn't matter – this is all absurd – I – I can't take over for Slughorn!" I was nearly shouting.

"Of course you can. Severus you were one of the brightest students this school has ever seen." Dumbledore folded his hands upon his desk and smiled. "You excelled at Potions in a way no student before you has. You will be an outstanding Professor, of that I am quite certain."

"Professor – what? _No!_" No! How could he use that word in reference to _me_? "No! I can't. You can't make me – I don't want to - I don't know – I can't-" My lack of coherence when I spoke was mortifying.

"Why would you say such a thing?" I couldn't tell if he was playing or not.

"Isn't it obvious!" I cried out. Dumbledore only shook his head to say no. He was going to make me say it. He was going to force me to say why I couldn't do it… I cannot teach because I am terrified.

I could barely speak. I wanted to throw up, "I can't do it – how could I possibly stand in front of a classroom full of students and speak to them! I can't – I don't even know how to teach!"

He only smiled, "You will learn," he said.

"No I won't! I can't – why are you making me do this!" I was actually on the verge of tears – and then it hit me. "Wait – I still don't understand what this has to do with protecting the boy – or anyone for that matter." Honestly! It had nothing to do with him. Dumbledore wasn't serious – I wasn't going to be forced to teach – it was all a bad joke.

"This has _everything_ to do with protecting the boy." Fuck. "Voldemort wished you to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I believe he always had a special place in his heart for Hogwarts and simply wanted to have a foothold in the school. He once requested the position for himself, when he was not much younger than you are now. I denied him this of course, and I believe he chose you Severus, his quiet, obedient servant to take up the position as the next best thing." Was Dumbledore really going to bring up how subservient and insignificant I once more?

He read my mind with out Legilimens again. "Oh yes Severus, just as in school you went fairly unnoticed as a Death Eater, which is why you were the ideal choice for him. No one would think twice to question the appointment of you as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

I cut him off - "Fine. So make me the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher! You know what - I want to teach that class. At least then I could do something useful. Unlike the imbeciles I had to learn from - I actually _know_ what the students would need be taught in order to defend themselves!"

But he cut me off, "If you can teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, then you can teach Potions." I buried my head in my hands. "What is it?" he asked again.

"That's not the point," I began, but there was no point in explaining… "You wouldn't understand. I won't do it."

"You said you would do anything." He spoke in that horrid mock tone of his, "Just a few moments ago you were willing to take on all of the Death Eaters single handedly and now you won't accept the simple request of teaching Potions classes? _That_ is absurd Severus."

I glared at him. I could have spit. Again he had twisted my words. Again he had me.

"Severus, you will continue to act as my spy, but you will do so under the cover of having been appointed Potions Master." He spoke with authority, he meant for me not to argue.

I wasn't dissuaded, "If this is simply a matter my being under cover, then why can I not teach Defense Against The Dark Arts. If I have accomplished what the Dark Lord asked of me, would it not look better, if he does return? I don't believe in the curse Dumbledore, let me do it."

"No Severus, I will not let you teach that class," he told me.

Why wouldn't he let me? "Are you afraid I would be tempted practice horrible Dark Magic if I were to confront it in class?"

"That's not what I said," but Dumbledore did not elaborate any further.

"That's not what you said, but that _is_ what you meant. You don't trust me." I wasn't afraid to say it, for I knew it was true.

"This is all irrelevant Severus," he said with a sigh of exhaustion or frustration. Either way, it was not lost on me that he did not deny what I had said. I glared at him as he went on. "You _will _take up the position of Potions Master and that is where we must leave this discussion, for I have other more pressing matters to attend to. Now, I suggest you take the rest of this day to become acclimated. Come back here tomorrow at eleven in the morning. We will discuss things further with Professor Slughorn, who will be more than happy to answer any other questions you might have."

"_Fine.__"_ I didn't want to talk to him anymore anyway.

"And Severus," he just had to add, "I mean eleven in the morning, and not a minute earlier."

"Fine." I said to that snarky git. And with that I turned on my heals and stomped out of the office.

~The Water

I was so mad when I left Dumbledore's office – and yet I was already regretting many of the things I had said. The portraits scoffed at me as I passed them and I was suddenly made aware of my pain again. Every inch of my body ached… so intense was the fatigue that I began to wonder how I would walk back to the room, but I made it somehow...

I walked into the room, and for the first time I was able to take it in through the full light of day. It was still stark and empty, but the blue light, which had so comforted me the night before, had become all the more radiant through the light of the sun… And suddenly I was dying to know. I walked to the window and drew back the curtain – The grotto! The windows looked out upon the caves and thus would show the stars and the sky. Not all the rooms in Slytherin look out upon sky. From my old dorm room I could make out the grounds. This new room, as I looked around it was roughly the same size, only it would not be shared of course, and the bed was bigger. The covers were not emerald green, but black. I realized how much I had missed my old room, but this new one was not so horrid. It was in truth… a nice room.

I walked toward the door along the back wall near the window. I entered the room, it looked exactly as our bathrooms had in our old dorm rooms - and just like our old bathroom, and I knew where the other door would lead. I had almost forgotten, but I was actually excited to enter it…

The poolroom. I wasn't prepared. All the bathrooms in Slytherin had adjoining rooms with swimming pools - it's where we all took baths. I know the three other dorms have no such thing… They all had bathtubs - but in Slytherin, we had pools. The pools are all interconnected underground in some way as they are all fed by the lake. This room was far more beautiful then our shared poolrooms - and even those were nice. The pool in this room was also slightly bigger and deeper then the one to which I had been accustomed.

So I walked down the set of three stone steps and into the stone walled room. It was empty save for the silver sconces upon the wall. There were three of them, each an elaborately carved coiling serpent. The flames of the candles were glowing, giving off a bluish green light. The flames matched exactly the color and light radiating from the water in the pool itself. Steam roses up from the water, for even though it flows in from the lake, the water in Slytherin is always warm.

I wanted nothing more than to be immersed in that water. I couldn't remember the last time I had taken a bath. I was an absolute mess. I knelt by the side and submerged my fingers into the glowing fluid. I was so exhausted, I nearly allowed myself to fall forward into it with my clothes on… but I still had the presence of mind to take them off.

Having to do so, every time, means having to face it - them. Just let me be in the water I thought, don't make me have to look upon my forearms, but I always do. It makes no difference at all, for feel them whether I see them or not. The Dark Mark on my left arm burns me with shame and guilt. It is the visible scar, proving that I have been defiled – that I _allowed_ myself to be defiled. It is the symbol for all of the sins I have ever committed. Still, despite the pain I continue to feel in it at times, I sometimes think it not punishment enough – for I must also face the marking upon my right arm…

The other marking – the one that in another life once filled me with joy - the one that now stings me with the same agonizing shame… Her mark. The doe, surrounded by lilies... And now it stands as a monument for all of the sins I have committed against her. I had not looked upon it since having taken her life… and I instantly wanted nothing more than to drown myself in the pool…

I stepped into it – but it took me it took me. I felt as though the fluid had entered into my blood. The warmth of it took over my entire body. I could have come it was that intense. I closed my eyes and let go, submerging myself completely. _Yes,__take__ me__ home._

My eyes were actually tearing under the water. Home… I was _home._ I was no longer sad or upset. I was just, home. I was home in Slytherin and I was safe. The lake – the house and the castle had me. I was safe. I swear it was the first time I had felt truly at peace in the three years since I had left the school. I was home. This water, this room – it was… mine. My room. I suddenly felt as if I could have a life there. No, it wouldn't be much. It would never be what I dreamed – nor could I ever allow myself such things after what I have done… but I could have some form of a life. I could read books, perhaps even write and swim every night in that water… and I would be all right.

I swam for a while... then I picked up my things and went back into my bedroom. I left my clothes on the dresser and practically fell on to the bed. I considered taking more potion, but I found the bed itself to be a more potent drug than the toxins of the night before. Of course it was. It had been three years since I have even had a bed. For all the time I was a spy for the Dark Lord, I lived like an insect. I lived between the walls in a crawl space above an inn back in Hogsmeade. I barely even had a mat, forget blankets or pillows. So I lay there letting sleep take me, as my still wet hair soaked the covers… I began to weigh what was worse, the exposure - forced to stand before a classroom but come home to a bed, or to live anonymously like an animal… I was unconscious long before my mind had been made up.

It was not long before I realized it either – but I had made a grave mistake. I should have taken the potion…


	4. Chapter 4

~Sunday 8 November 1981 - Dusk, My Room

I am so tired… but I will not be able to sleep until I write this….

~Nightmares and The Second Day

I was wrong that night not to take the potion. With out the toxins to calm me, I had such vivid, horrific nightmares which were made all the worse because they were real. They were not dreams but memories of past events come back to haunt me while I slept. For that entire day and that night I dreamt about Evan. I would give anything to forget, but I can't... Why did I have to dream such things about him – about that day?

That day…I remember all too well, that horrible winter day… gray, painfully cold from the biting wind. I felt the ice in my bones despite the many layers I wore. As usual I had a hood and a scarf wrapped around my face so that no one would see me. How he found me in the crowded Hogsmeade side street like that I will never know. But he grabbed me and threw me up against the wall forcing my shoulders back into the ragged stone wall. He got right into my face and frantically whispered what he would otherwise have screamed.

"Severus – What the fuck are you doing!" Wilkes. He glared at me with wild blood shot eyes that had not seen sleep for many days.

"What the fuck are you doing Wilkes!" I threw him off me at once. As I furious as I was with him for attacking me, I could not help but feel euphoric at the sight of him. I hadn't seen any of my friends since we'd left school. I would never have imagined it, but he clearly was upset that I had hidden from them.

"Where the fuck have you been! None of us see you," he was really mad, and his exact words I sadly cannot remember. But he went on scolding me for a few more minutes before I could calm him down.

"I can't be seen by anyone," I reminded him, "and I myself cannot see anyone either. I am a spy. None of us are supposed to see each other." I kept pushing his hands off me, because he kept trying to take off my hood.

"Severus, you're the only one that takes that shit seriously," he went on in a fury, but then he actually said something nice about me. He said something about my devotion and how it made me unfit to be a Death Eater - that I was too good for it. Why can I not remember his words when I must be forced to recall every God damn syllable spoken by Albus Dumbledore and myself?

Wilkes went on speaking quickly while he shook me by my shoulders, "You're not meant for this shit! Do you understand me! Fuck - none of that matters now! Come back now - we need you! We fucking need you! They're going to kill Evan!"

"What!" I nearly screamed, "What the fuck why didn't you tell me first thing off you idiot – where is he! Is he alright!"

Wilkes was practically spitting with rage as he muttered in an incoherent fury. I slapped him hard and then he spoke sense, "Moody – Mad-Eye fucking Moody! They know Severus – they know Evan a Death Eater! They fucking caught Evan stealing and now they _know_ - and they're after him!"

I grabbed him and shook him by the shoulders. "Who gives a fuck! Evan is a thief and a bad one at that. If he has managed to plunder so much as fifteen galleons in all this time I will be fucking shocked Wilkes, so why the hell are the Aurors after him!"

"Because you idiot – he's an easy target!" He was foaming at the mouth, making no sense and he calls me an idiot. So I shook him again to shut him up. And what did he mean by easy target?

"That makes no fucking sense." I told him, "Moody could easily take out an army, and Evan could easily take out himself with one slip of a wand, he's that clumsy. Why would they bother to send Moody to arrest him?"

Wilkes was livid. "Where have you fucking been!" he howled, "Have you been in a Goddamn cave? Severus - The Ministry authorized the use of unforgivable curses! Weeks ago! They don't arrest Death Eaters any more – they kill you on the spot!"

What – how! My Heart stopped. I felt sick. They'll kill us if they find us! All of us? What about the ones who aren't evil? What about Evan! He was foolish boy who tripped and fell over his own feet, the worst thing her ever did was knock over shops and they would kill him! "Bring Evan to me, if anyone can hide him I can, its what I do best as you have so relentlessly pointed out."

"No!" he nearly screamed. "You don't fucking get it Severus! They are all furious with him – Avery, Nott, Rodolphus and Lucius –The Dark Lord and Evan's own fucking father! They are punishing him for having been caught and for embarrassing them. They've ordered him to kill Moody!"

I went off my head. "What – no! He can't!"

Wilkes grabbed me and started shaking me again. I cannot recall the full extent of his rant but he just kept shaking me hard saying to me over and over - "Severus, you have to help – we have to help him! We have to do something!"

I would have done anything to save Evan – I wanted to help him but I didn't know what to do. Then I suddenly realized how near to impossible it would be to aid him. "Wilkes if I come out of hiding, The Dark Lord will kill me - and my parents before I'd even have a chance to do anything. But even that doesn't matter. Think about it Wilkes! If I were to succeed in aiding him – it would only make things worse! If they've ordered _him_ to kill Moody and _we_ did it – The Dark Lord would kill the both of us as well as Evan! We can't save him!"

I'd said it. As soon as I did the full agonizing reality over took me. It was awful, but we had to resign ourselves to the truth. "If The Dark Lord has marked Evan for death, there is nothing anyone can do. No one lives once he decides to kill them."

"I know that!" he shouted back at me in anger.

"Than what the hell are we going to do!" I cried out as I slapped him again.

He nearly punched me. Then he shoved me aside and yelled, "I don't know! I don't know!" He was crying and pulling at his hair. It was horrible to watch. Over the years, I'd come to not trust any of them…. Save for Evan and her. Avery had become a bloodthirsty tyrant. Mulciber had become a brutally aggressive thug, and Wilkes… you just never knew with him. But as I watched him in absolute terror at the thought of losing Evan, I dropped all of my s_uspicions_. I know things were always complicated between them. I know the fear of their families finding out kept them apart. To this day I don't know if they worked things out in the years since we all left school… Whatever the case I knew how he felt, I could see it in his eyes. Evan was the only thing that mattered to him.

I didn't want to lose Evan either, the thought was unbearable. "Alright," I said grabbing hold of his shoulders again. I shook him hard and forced him to focus on me, "Listen, we'll think of something. In the mean time, you must find Evan. I'm going to teach you a spell, at the very least you must show Evan how to do this so that he will have some way of defending himself. He could never pull off a killing curse or anything even close to it… but you cannot allow him to go up against Moody with nothing. Work with him Wilkes, make sure he that learns this… it won't be easy for him, but you have to make him understand." And with that I taught him the use of Sectumsempra.

I left Wilkes and returned to my hiding place. What had I done? It seemed so wrong… that I had taught my unspeakable, violent creation to Wilkes as a means to save Evan. That spell had been unconsciously born from a fit of despair – from the agonizing longing I felt at the absence of Lily's love. I used it to hurt myself. The sin and shame of the thing was too much to bear. I swore I would only use it against enemies. The thought that such a terribly cursed creation would be Evan's only hope at survival frightened me. Always the same… I had nothing to offer but sin and destruction…

Two days passed. I was out walking again. Everyone was bundled up against the biting wind, but one figure all in black was unmistakable. Wilkes. He ran, practically flew into me nearly knocking me over. "Where is he! Where is Evan!"

"I don't know," and even as I said it, the terror had over taken me - for I already knew. Wilkes and I stared at each other for merely a second then we both tore off together, instinctively in the direction of the Hogsmeade High street. Neither of us said a word. We ran for what seemed to be far too long. I couldn't think I could only feel. Fear, adrenaline - run faster – that's all there was. Then suddenly I had a flash of memory – all of us running this very way through Hogsmeade. We were teenagers in a fleeing in a fit of joyful panic at in the face of being caught and given detention. But that was over. Only abject terror remained as we ran to find Evan.

I saw him first. We were running through the alley way, still concealed from sight - but I could see Moody standing in the street. To this day, I still don't know why I did it, but I grabbed Wilkes. I grabbed him hard to stop him from running and threw him into the wall. Before I'd even stopped to think I had thrown myself over him to prevent him from fleeing and covered his mouth with my hand to keep him from screaming.

I needed a second to think of what to do. At the very least I had to hold Wilkes back or he would certainly get himself killed by running in so recklessly. I turned to see what was going on in the street behind me.

I heard it before I could see, "Rosier!" Moody shouted. To my absolute horror, there was Evan. I threw my entire body against Wilkes to hold him back. It took all the strength I had to do it. Had I known, in that moment that I had just made a choice between the both of them, I don't know what I would have done. I honestly thought I would have more time. At the very least I thought Evan would have had a chance to-

But it was over before I'd even turned around. He killed him. Moody just killed him as if Evan been an insect. Wilkes was in shock, he fought me and I fought him as if to stop my own panic. I wanted to scream just as badly as did he. Tears flooded my eyes. It's not real. How could it be? He's not dead! No. I still wouldn't believe it even as I stared down at Evan's lifeless body.

But he's Evan. He's Evan - he can't be dead! He's in the Common Room with us making us laugh over his wand backfiring an aqua colored fluid into his face saying he had done it on purpose - he's not dead! But he was. He was dead! I'd never seen anyone die. It was his eyes… they were glass… completely empty. He was dead…

Moody still stood above him, very much alive. In the last second, Evan must have struck back, all be it feebly. A part of Moody's nose had been hexed off. Sectumsempra had failed him, and I had failed Evan. Wilkes struggled against me. I felt his tears pouring onto my hand. I'd failed him too. Yes I had likely saved his life by holding him back from the battle – if you can even call it that, but I'd failed them both. I let go. He collapsed and began to sob.

I knelt beside him. I didn't know what to do. I placed my hands on his shoulders and he instantly threw them off. He stared at me – his eyes – I stammered. There was nothing I could say to him so I said nothing. He pushed me hard and I did not fight him or protest at all. He shoved me again and I fell back onto my hands. I made no attempt to get up, but he did. I looked up at him. His eyes were wild – ice white and full of rage. I didn't move I just kept staring up at him speechless.

He fixed me with his gaze as his eyes glittered with tears – "Fuck you Severus!" He pushed me all the way to the ground. "Fuck you Severus. Fuck you!" He turned and tore off back through the alley. I never saw him after that.

I heard his footsteps as he ran away. I made no attempt to run after him. He was right to hate me. In the street I heard all the commotion over Evan and Moody. I couldn't look back. I just stared up at the sky not knowing what to do or think. What the hell kind of world had it become when people were just – killed – by the good people? What the hell was I doing? And if they we were the bad people – and the good now killed as ruthlessly as we did… Why?

Dear God Evan was dead. I just lay there twisted and paralyzed upon the frozen stone street starring up at the sky. The sky… it was lifeless, cold and full of pale gray clouds. White on white, and I could not move or take my eyes from that sky. I felt as dead as I do now.

Evan…

I cried when I woke up, just as I cry now. And now again I must stop writing. Dear God, now that I have written it, let me never think upon that day again…

~Sunday 8 November 1981 – Late Evening, My Room

I went into the pool in the hopes that it would help to stop my sadness. I think it did. I remembered good things, taking a bath when I was younger – after having smoked pot all night with them. I almost heard their laughter again and so… I think I can write more now.

~One Final Frustrating Meeting With Dumbledore

The dreams of Evan had been too much. I couldn't get up and for the first time in two nights of sleeping on the bed. I actually pulled the blankets back and wrapped myself in them, I was freezing after having passed out with out my clothes. So I curled up under them and sobbed for Evan that morning. I toyed with the silver serpent ring on my finger. All six of usm my Slytherin friends and I had identical rings. It is a silver serpent coiled around my finger holding its tail in its mouth. Evan had stolen them for us one night. I think mostly of him when I look upon it… but that morning - for the first time, I feared for Wilkes. I had not seen him since that day. The fear was enough to stop me from crying drove me to get up.

I walked to the table where I had left my clothes. I finally saw them in full – they were a wreck. I was really upset to see them in such a state… that I had allowed them to become such a mess. They had given to me by Tisiphone before we'd left school. Its stupid really, but she'd placed protective charms on them, and they were still holding up fairly well after all these years. It wasn't much, and yet so rare was it that I was ever given gifts at all. For three years my clothes, the ring and my wand were practically all I owned.

I wish with all my heart that still I had something given to me by Lily. I remember she gave me flowers once when we were young... Neither of us had much so she gave me flowers. Even with all the money in the world they were the most wonderful things I had ever been given. I remember them still and it pains me to do so as I know they are gone foreve… just like her. But they were beautiful, Lavender and daffodils. I cherished them - I kept them for years in a book but… it was a spell book and he found it. He burnt it. And because of him, I lost the greatest gift I had ever been given.

I wish I could have them back. I wish that I now I had something of hers. I would – but – no. No I can't. I deserve so such thing. I have my ring from Evan, and my filthy clothes… It was all I deserved so I took my wand and cast several charms upon them. The magic removed the wrinkles and ash and what I knew was my own blood. That run through the forest had been far worse than I remembered. The cuts were still on my hands still and I remembered how I'd gotten them that night I left Dumbledore. Right, Dumbledore. Thankfully it was near enough to eleven so that my wait for answers was not long.

I was still upset as I rose up the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office, but was sure to hide it well before I reached the landing. He answered the door and right away I could see what kind of a conversation it would be. "Ah, Severus, you came!" he said jovially.

Fantastic, he was playing the foolish old man game again. Did he really think I wouldn't come? "Sir, you told me to be here at eleven."

"So I did, come in come in." He spoke as if this was a normal day, as if nothing horrific had ever happened. "Can I offer you a liquorish snap?"

As if I would start eating sweets, magical or not... "No thank you." I stood before his desk with my hands behind my back and hoped to hell he would be serious and forthcoming with answers for a change.

"Very well," he said and he graciously took his place behind his desk. "Horace will be joining us in a few minutes time, have a seat Severus."

If I sat, would this further strip me of power? Had that been his purpose, or was he genuinely being kind to me? I still have a difficulty in understanding his motivations at times. I did as he told me in the hopes that he would be more receptive if I did.

"I have been thinking Severus," he began but trailed off and seemed to study me from across the desk. Already I was sick to my stomach with dread over what ever it was he had been thinking. He twirled his thumbs for a few agonizing moments before he continued. "I have come to believe that you are right, and that it would be for the best if no one else besides else besides the two of us knows what you are doing for Harry, for the time being at least."

I only nodded. There are just too many ways in which I could respond to such a loaded statement.

"We will indeed keep this between the two of us. Which brings me to my next point." He looked at me with that devious glint in his eyes. I glared back and would not give him the satisfaction of a response. "Severus, do you still have your Death Eater mask and robes?"

At first I said nothing. That was the last thing I expected to be asked that morning. But I told him the truth. "Avery took my mask years ago. He said I wouldn't need it since I would be living in the shadows. He said having multiple masks would aid him greatly since he would be the one going on raids. I gave it to him with no hesitation. I never used it much anyway. My robes… those are in Hogsmeade. Still in the crawl space where I lived all that time…"

"Good, good," he said. "I'd like for you to retrieve your robes and hold on to them for future use. Will you do this?"

"Yes Sir," there was no point in arguing, though the dread within me had grown all the more painful as I sat there fearing a returning to that place….

"You needn't do it today, but the sooner the better," he just had to add.

"Yes, Sir." I had to change the subject. It was killing me – all of it was. "Headmaster, What are you and Horace going to talk to me about?"

"Oh I won't be talking with you, Horace is going to take you to the Potions Classroom and show you around. He is the one passing the torch to you after all." He said this neglecting the fact that I had not fully agreed to do this.

"Sir, won't Horace have classes to teach?" I asked him, hoping I could at least delay the meeting long enough for to change Dumbledore's mind about the whole absurd thing.

"Oh no of course not!" He said, in that mocking tone, laughing at me because he was shocked that I didn't know. Well how would I know these things! "Professor O'Malley, the current Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher has been teaching in his place these past few days. You see Severus, I'm afraid, Professor Slughorn has… shall we say, been through a rather large shock and has not felt up to the task of teaching."

"Wait a minute!" I'd cut him off - was he mental? "You are telling me that he has been through a shock and can not teach! Have I not been through a shock as well! And clearly, Professor Slughorn who has at least had years of experience in teaching would be more adept to teach under such a shock than would I!"

"Perhaps Severus, you do have a point. However, Professor Slughorn had been considering retiring at the end of this year, and after all that has happened these past weeks he has chosen to do so a bit earlier then planned." He pause, glared straight into me. "You will do this Severus," and this he told me most sternly, "I will not ask you again. Remember your promise."

I said nothing. My mind was racing. Again I was full of fear and dread of what teaching would mean. I had nothing to say on that matter, not to him, and I knew I couldn't refuse him. My only hope was that somehow, Slughorn would change his mind.

I had sat silently for too long. Dumbledore interrupted my train of thought saying, "Severus, you have not given me an answer."

"Forgive me Sir, I did not think there had been a question." I could tell by the look on his face that he did not appreciate the cheek. Fine then, so I gave him his answer, "You have asked me to teach, and I agreed that I would do anything for you in return for your protecting them. Upon your request, I put myself at great risk and I acted as an informant for you with out hesitation, but now you have asked something of me that I simply cannot do. Why would you trust me to be with the students in such a way? I know nothing of teaching and I –"

"Severus, of course I trust you to be with the students," he said that, but there was something in his voice that I did not believe. "As to your ability to teach, I stand by what I have already said, I am sure you will learn over time. Horace will be here shortly. Any specific questions you have in regards to teaching Potions you can ask of him. I am afraid, that is his area of expertise not mine. Now I must insist that you stop acting so childishly about this."

Childishly? How was I being childish? Because I was afraid? Yes, it makes me pathetic, I know that – but at the very least I was being honest. Was he not at all concerned for the welfare of the students under my guidance – if I even had any guidance to give? What if I was a horrible teacher? What if God forbid I treated the students like my father treated me – what if I were to become him! Did Dumbledore not see what a terrible impact I would have on countless students if I were to fail! This wasn't at all like asking me to spy for him - I was the only one likely to be hurt in that instance. "Sir, are you absolutely certain this is a good idea?"

"Severus, _enough_," he said harshly. Then he stood up and began to pace the room. "I have already expressed to you that we will no longer be arguing this point. There is little else you can do now at any rate. You forfeited the ability to make such choices when you joined forces with the Death Eaters, so I will hear no more of it."

"Yes Sir," there was no point in arguing. I took a deep breath and resigned myself to it. "I will do this." After that I could only stare at the floor. He said nothing for a long while.

"I am glad you have finally come to your senses." Dumbledore again spoke with the most irritant tone… and then he said it. "Then we have come to an agreement. Beginning Monday the sixteenth of November, you will officially take up the post of Potions Master."

I answered him, "Yes," though I could barely speak the word. So soon. Ten days. In ten days I would have to teach... I couldn't even look at him. I felt my knees grow weak and was suddenly glad to be sitting, less he should see me so weakened. Several silent moments passed. There was no sense in holding back any longer. "Sir?" I said finally looking up at him

"Yes," he sounded annoyed, "What is it?"

Finally I had worked up the nerve to say it. "Sir, what happened to Caligula?"

"Who?" Clearly he had not expected this, for he sounded completely bewildered.

"Caligula –Caligula Wilkes," even after I'd said his full name, Dumbledore still looked at my quizzically. "Remember? He was a student here once, a Slytherin he was my friend. What happened to him, where is he?"

"I remember Wilkes well," he said calmly," but Severus, why is it that you do not know these things yourself?

I was tired of justifying everything to him, but I did so anyway. "Sir, I have told you. When I was with the Death Eaters, it was just as it was when I joined The Order. I was never in attendance at meetings, and I saw no one save for the one in charge. I never asked any questions, I simply did what I was told. I was rarely told anything of great importance. I do not know anything about the fate of Caligula Wilkes."

"Caligula Wilkes is dead." He just said it – flat with no emotion, no empathy - as if he spoke of a person far removed by centuries of time.

Why did he not just stab me! Wilkes? No! I began to panic - "How! When –"

"Quite recently," he was far too callous in his explanation. "He was killed after a brief duel with several Aurors from whom he was trying to flee."

I wanted to say something, but the air had been sucked from my lungs and I could not breathe or speak. I could only stare at Dumbledore as I fought to find my breath.

"It appears that the Aurors were not the only pursuers he was trying to avoid. According to the Ministry report, Voldemort himself waned to kill him. Voldemort had already killed his entire family, even his father with whom Voldemort had been good friends."

Why was he telling me this? Him? The Dark Lord – Friends? I didn't care – I still don't care! "Wilkes was my friend – What happened to him?"

"Voldemort tried to kill him,' he said, and then his tone turned dark. "He wanted to kill them all because Wilkes would not agree to torture Sirius Black."

"What!" I gasped.

He must have seen my shock and distress for he finally spoke to me with the slightest hint of empathy. "Yes, after he became the Secret Keeper for the Potters, it appears the Death Eaters became suspicious of him. Wilkes was ordered to torture the information out of Sirius, but when he refused, Voldemort sought to kill him along with his entire family for his disloyalty."

"What!" I couldn't get my head around it. What was this about torturing Black and why had I not heard about it! "But Black –"

He cut off what I'm sure would have been another heated rant that I would later have regretted. "Yes, in the end it seems that Black was more than willing to give up such information, having already been a loyal Death Eater."

That still left so many questions, and I was desperate for answers, "So-" but I was denied for he cut me off again.

"That is all I know, and therefore all I can tell you." Dumbledore said to permanently silence me. And then he said it… "You see Severus, I do give you information when you ask for it. And as to your being absent from Order meetings, I never requested you keep such a distance. As I suspect it was when you were a Death Eater, it was your choice to remain segregated from the group."

I wanted to scream but even as I sat there staring I knew it to be true, at least partially. Well how could I? I was corrupted and dangerous. There was no way I could be with them. I was a Death Eater, I was marked, I was cursed - so could I be anywhere near to her – to any of them?

And after all this - what about Wilkes! Caligula I never trusted in full - but he might have died heroically – to defend a man who turned out to be a traitor anyway. Had Wilkes truly turned good in the end? Why – how? And when the hell did Black become a Death Eater anyway! How could he do it? Was Wilkes all right? Had he suffered? So many questions, which will forever remain unanswered. I wanted to ask, I almost did…

But then I looked up at Dumbledore, and saw it. How it will always be with him. For the rest of my life - I will come to him with questions only be turned away with far more questions and no solid answers at all. And just because fate so loves too add more mocking insult to my grievous injuries, at just that moment Horace Slughorn entered the office.

I can't do this anymore. I can't breathe. I need air….


	5. Chapter 5

~Sunday 8 November 1981 – Late Evening, My Room

I was going to stop tonight after writing about Wilkes and Evan, but I feel even further from sleep now. I need to face what happened between Slughorn and myself before I can find peace on this night.

~Obligations and Responsibilities

Horace Slughorn, there he stood. It seemed like a dream for I had not seen him in what seemed to be decades, but there he was in Dumbledore's office as if no time had passed at all. "Severus!" he shouted far too forcefully to be considered civilized and then he hurried across the floor to me. "There you are!" he cried out as he lifted me up from the chair before I could even stand on my own. Honestly. I did not need to be hugged at all, let alone as brutally as he had done. Well when Dumbledore told me you had come back to teach I could scarcely believe it! Well look at you boy, you haven't changed at all – well, perhaps you've grown thinner since you were in my class but you don't look a day over seventeen!" He just prattled on and on, laughing as he dragged me towards the door. "Well come on then, let's get this torch passed quickly then. The sooner the better I say, and when we're done I hope Dumbledore won't object to us making a visit to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate. I believe a few rounds would do us both good!"

Well at least he had made one good point. I let him lead me out of the office, anything to leave Dumbledore. Slughorn was no favorite of mine when I had been a student, but as he lead me down the hall I realized that I had not interacted with anyone save for Dumbledore since I had woken up in his office. Since the time before that was all a disturbing blur, my memories of speaking with Dumbledore were all I had. They were, because the portraits and my abomination of my trail certainly don't count. So I was suddenly very glad to be in Slughorn's presence. It's not that I was expecting sympathy or friendship from him, but I knew at least that he would not preach to me.

He talked the whole way. I wasn't listening. I hadn't thought of it at first, but when I came to realize where we were headed I nearly stopped waking. The Potions Classroom. I did not want to set foot in that room. That room - where for so many years I had been with Lily when we were friends… when we worked together and laughed… where I was alone while she ignored me across the room after we'd… I didn't want to go near that room. Far too many memories.

I began to feel the impending sense of something terrible as we neared the dungeons – just as I had when I'd been lead to my trial. What would happen when he opened the door, would she be there, as if nothing had happened – no, surely she would be waiting there to condemn me for what I had done… but even that foolish thought was far too pleasant a fantasy – for that room would undoubtedly be empty.

Horace said something to me. I hadn't heard, I blinked myself out of it and stared at him as he opened the door to the classroom. That smell. It was the smell got to me first – it wasn't awful –I felt no dread at all. I felt peaceful, as I had when I'd seen the light of the lake in my room in Slytherin. I remembered how much I had loved that classroom. I had been calmed by the scent and feel of the classroom when I had been a student. I'd barely realized it, but I was smiling.

"Good to come back to it after all this time isn't it?" Horace was saying.

"Yes," I said to him absent-mindedly. I was still taking it all in.

Nothing had changed. The whole world had been destroyed and blown away, but that room still remained. Slytherin still remained – the whole of Hogwarts remained in tact – the place I had once come to consider home. I felt there was some hope in that, despite the guilt I experienced at feeling any sense of peace at all.

"Yes yes," Slughorn was saying, "Always makes me cheerful to see the place again after the summer holidays, but then – I'll be leaving that to you now."

"Right…" I still wasn't registering it all. Because I knew I was not taking over for him. Not really.

"Now then, I'll be handing over the keys and undoing my protective spells on everything. You will need to recast your own charms. Severus?" Slughorn was tying to get my attention. He'd caught me in my trace.

"Sorry," I looked at him. He seemed different. I hadn't noticed in Dumbledore's office but he looked changed somehow. He looked the same – but he'd always seemed so cheerful. There was something different, something drained and… even melancholy about him. I didn't understand, and I couldn't help but wonder, "Sir, why are you leaving?"

He laughed, "Oh you know boy, one gets to the point where all of this is quite tiring. The pleasantries of life need to be _enjoyed_ and I intend to take more time to do just that. I've had quite enough of this teaching business at my age!" I didn't need Legilimens to know he wasn't being entirely truthful – if not completely full of shit. This was not his usual from of exuberance. His energy as I knew it could never be restrained, but now it all felt so forced. What wasn't he telling me? "Well come on then, I'll show you to my – your office!"

I didn't find that funny or comforting at all. Office? I don't want an _office!_ I lived like a criminal for years – I _am_ a criminal. Don't give me an office from which to conduct business. I should not be responsible for such things – let alone the responsibility of teaching students! No. I will never have an office, but we'd reached the room and he had already opened the door.

I'd been in Slughorn's office only once before. This time it was different, half of it was packed up. Boxes and trunks were scattered about the room. "Have a seat Severus," he said to me as he pulled out a chair and sat down. He seemed tired in a way that was not explained by mere physical exhaustion alone. "So, Albus tells me you've come back to Hogwarts wanting teach!"

He didn't know. Dumbledore had lied to him. Right. That would be the lie told to everyone. I requested a teaching position and was given one. And just as Dumbledore would have it, that wasn't a complete lie, since I told him that the Dark Lord asked me to do this. Wonderful. "Yes, that's right," I lied to Horace, "I thought I would come back and teach…"

"That's _marvelous_!" He said, "You were a brilliant student! I couldn't have picked a better replacement…" but he trailed off. I knew exactly why he had stopped speaking. We both knew there was another who would have been far more qualified, had she been alive. I choked up at the mere suggestion of Lily, and he seemed to as well. I pretended not to notice his sorrow. I wonder if he in turn noticed mine and pretended not to see himself, for he said nothing. I fought back my tears. I had to focus, I had to remain emotionless – I had to change the subject.

"Sir. Do you… have any advice for me?" I was only asking him to redirect the conversation, and yet it occurred to me that I really did need to ask such a thing. What did I know about teaching? All those years I had been such an arrogant student, I thought I knew everything. I thought I knew far more than Horace who seemed nothing more that a foolish old man to me. What a fool _I_ had been. There I sat – absolutely terrified at the prospect of teaching, ready to beg for help from the man I had once looked down upon with such seething contempt.

But he only smiled and laughed at me saying, "Oh Severus, you'll do just fine. You know the material!" Right. It was as if fate was of punishing me for my hubris. "I will leave everything for you – all my notes, all the potions in the stores will be at your disposal. Can't imagine you'd need anything else you'll be just fine."

He stood up and began packing. I didn't know what to do, so I stood up and tried to help him. "Sir, are you sure you really want to leave, I mean, don't you want to finish the term?" I asked. I had to try.

"No, no, I've got more than enough on my plate at the moment. That's all right you don't have to help me to pack. I've just about got this," he said still avoiding me.

I helped any way. I was just about to hand him a book, when he reached for something on his desk and collapsed into his chair. I ran to him, I thought for a moment he'd fainted – but he was awake – staring. His face was stark white as if he'd had a shock. I called out to him, but he did not fully answer me. He stammered his eyes glassed over as he continued to stare. I looked to the desk, "What is it Sir," I couldn't see anything, just a stack off books, a messy pile of quills, a glass bowl full of water and an inkwell.

His eyes filled with tears. "Severus," he said, but he didn't say anything else. He began to cry. It was awful. Suddenly I saw in him what I must have been like when I sat staring at nothing in Dumbledore's office. I didn't know what to do. He just cried and glared at that glass bowl.

"Severus, he said again and shook his head, "there are things…you wouldn't understand lad, you're too young… too young to understand guilt you know..." he shook his head and said no more. I _knew_ he wasn't himself, I _knew_ there was something wrong. He just stared and said again, "...too young. You can not imagine what guilt can do to a person." I had no idea what do say. Too young! Not understand guilt! – But I did! I did know – what had _he_ meant? There was nothing that man could ever have done to match the horrible sins that I have committed. Not him, not Horace. There was not a hint of cruelty in him. He was just a silly, lonely old man who made bad jokes in class. He meant well, only I'd been too foolish when I was a young naive student to see that he had been a very kind hearted person. Always I am too late to see people for what they truly are.

I stood there beside him as he sat at his desk staring blankly trying not to cry. I had no idea what to do or say. I wanted to tell him he was a good man - that he had been a good teacher. I wanted to tell him that he could not possibly be guilty. I wanted to be able to say something to him - I wanted so much for him to say something to me, but neither of us spoke a single word.

After a few painfully silent moments, he stood up and told me that he didn't want to take up any more of my time, or something to that effect. It didn't matter what it was, I knew what he'd meant. I know what it is to want to run screaming from a room, and I wasn't about to deny him his opportunity to do so. I stood back so a not to hinder him as he raced about the room packing in a frenzy.

Again I asked if he needed help, but he just smiled and made some joke about not wanting to leave me with any more work. He knew what he was leaving me with. He just couldn't say so, and he couldn't stand to stay long enough to help me. Seeing him then, I finally understood why. I just wish I could have said _something_, if only to tell him, that I knew how he felt. That I was sorry, that I did understand guilt - likely more so than he. Why didn't I speak up! …Because Dumbledore is right, I cannot act when it counts.

So I watched in silence as Horace collected the remainder of his things and made his way towards the door. I didn't know if I should follow but in the end, I thought it best if I just let him go. When he reached the door he turned back to me and smiled. "You'll do alright Severus, you know. You just have to… do what you know is right." Clearly he was at a loss for what to say. I thought it frightful, how he was just leaving me with that, but it was worse, there was more. "Oh right!" he said catching himself – "The keys – the keys and the passwords."

Somehow I knew he meant more than keys to the office… "Keys, passwords, to what?"

He laughed at me, "The keys – to the office the classroom and the stores. I've taken down all other enchantments so that you can cast your own as an extra level for protection. And the current password to Slytherin is 'Thermae' at least – at least I _think _that is the current password…"

He trailed off. I was confused, "Why do I need to know the password?" But he hadn't heard me.

"At any rate" he went on as if I hadn't spoken, "As you'll recall they change every two weeks. Just ask your Prefects and they'll let you know."

Wait, why had he just said that? "Horace, why are you telling me this and what did you mean when you said 'your' Prefects?"

He looked at me as if I was some peculiar new breed of insect, then he smiled and laughed again, "Severus, they are _your_ Prefects now! They certainly aren't mine anymore, I'm leaving remember boy? You are the new head of Slytherin House!"

I felt as thought I'd been shot by a stunning spell. Head of House! _No!_ No, that just _couldn't be_. Teaching students would be horrible enough for how maladapted I would be to the simple act of teaching… But to be in charge of the _entire_ house – that would make me - that would make me _responsible_ for them! I would be like… _a parent_ – or _at least an older sibling,_ and how the hell could I ever be that to anyone! It isn't right at all. Punish me if you will don't punish the students. How could he just leave me with that! I cannot be a professor! – I cannot have an office for God's sake I cannot take over the whole of Slytherin House! It's true – what everyone said about me – I _am_ a child! I cannot do this!

"Severus!" he said to me because clearly Horace caught me staring blankly into space completely stunned and speechless. "Dumbledore told you about this didn't he?"

"What? Yes of course," there was no point in telling the truth – but why had Dumbledore not told me this? I wanted to think he hadn't told me because it wasn't true that Slughorn was wrong but there was no point in denying the thing. Clearly it was going to happen for Slughorn was leaving and no one else on the staff was a former Slytherin so that would leave only me to do it. How could I do such a thing? I couldn't but there was Horace holding out the keys for me to take them.

I stared at the heavy brass things. The last thing I wanted to do was touch those keys. I fully understood everything they would represent. But, I had to. Horace wanted to run screaming from the room, I had to – I had to spare him the suffering and take it myself. So I took them. They were heavier than they looked. I held them cold in my hand and the weight of them came full upon me. Horace placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled. "You'll be alright lad," but I didn't take my eyes from the keys to look up at him. "Send us an owl once in a while." He said it, but I knew he didn't mean it. That was his means to escape and with that statement, he exited out the door.

Why. Why? I am cursed! I am a criminal - a murderer - a liar – and I'm a child! Why leave such a tainted, inexperienced individual in charge of _children_? On my best days I am an unpleasant person… I was already terrified by the idea of becoming a professor – but Head of House! I threw the keys on the ground and ran for my room.

_Throw the keys all you will Severus – they are still yours. _

I knew it. I knew it and I just cried in my room for what seemed like an hour. So much all at once I wasn't even sure why I was crying. Lily – Evan – James – Harry - Tisiphone – Caligula – God _Caligula Wilkes_ why… but in the end I went right back to being upset about my unbearable predicament. I should have been mad at Horace for leaving me in such a lurch…. but I wasn't.

He was upset and needed to leave. Poor Horace…. This was not his doing. Horace was in no condition – he was falling apart at his perceived guilt. No – this was all Dumbledore's doing. It was he who'd let Professor Slughorn go and left me in his stead. How was that just?

How could I possibly teach? I hate the students! I hated them when I was a student – I was afraid of them. They mocked me. When I wasn't afraid, I hated them for their arrogance or for their stupidity. How could I possibly teach _them?_ I was a student with many of them! Dear God – all of the forth, third, second and first years that attended Hogwarts when I was a seventh year are _still here!_ The students would all have known what a complete and total fuck up I was. I hung out with the bad kids – I was one of them. They would have known me as the one everyone picked on – for the creepy weird kid who sat in the corner studying. How many times in later years was I passed out in the Common Room drunk or _worse_? They would have seen me! And what of their parents? How will they feel about a former Death Eater looking after their children!

Oh God what was I about to face? I don't how long I was in that room panicking. But judging by they light I could tell it was late in the afternoon. Was I supposed to go back to see Dumbledore after talking with Horace? I didn't know and I didn't care. He was the last person I wanted to talk to. I paced the room for a while. I decided to take a bath, it made me feel better the day previous so I figured it wouldn't hurt…

Why I am so naive?


	6. Chapter 6

~Sunday 8 November 1981 – Near Midnight, My Room

Still can't sleep. I might as well deal with what happened in Slytherin.

~The Other Side of the Wall

The pool was just as inviting as it had been – the water seemed calm and warm and I wanted nothing more then to float at peace in it once again. I neared the waters edge, at first I thought I was hearing things but the sound of voices from just beyond the wall was too vivid for any hallucination.

I was so distressed by the voices that I jumped into the water still wearing my clothes to look around for the source of the sound. I heard it – just behind me as I felt the icy draft on the back of my neck. I turned then to see the gap in the wall just above the surface of the water. The water nearly covered the opening but for about an inch of space. Perhaps the water level had dropped overnight – or perhaps I had just been too tired to notice the gap or the sounds emanating from it earlier… by then however it was unmistakable… through the open space between the wall and the water I heard the unsettling sound of students talking loudly and laughing.

And then I saw it, the whole thing. The gap extended far below the water line – this was no mere gap, it was submerged crawl space. The narrow passage was just large enough for me to swim through. It was upsetting me. Why was there such a hole in the wall of my bath? Worse, what was the true source of the voices? What were they saying? Something about the way they spoke ate at me. I couldn't take it. I took off my boots, threw them onto the ledge and swam through.

I emerged on the other side and found myself in a similar room with another pool but this room was empty, and the candles in the serpent sconces had clearly not been lit in years. I looked around the room. Nothing remarkable... just an empty room full of cobwebs – and a door. I pushed it open and walked through.

No way, this can't be. But where else would I be? Wasn't it obvious and why did I not guessed earlier. I was in one of the hallways of the Slytherin Dorms – they boys dorms. I knew exactly where I was. This was the hallway furthest from the Common Room – where my room had been during my early years before we switched to the higher rooms in our forth year.

I stayed put where I was waiting for movement or any sound. Three boys came out from a room down the end of the hallway. I didn't move. They didn't look at me. One of them called out, "Hurry up David if you make us late she is going to kill us!"

"I'm coming! Calm down! We won't be late," they boy whom I'm assuming is David cried out as he ran to join the others. Late? Late for what? And who was she? As quietly as I could I followed them.

They said nothing further as they walked but I guessed they were heading for the Common Room. They were. I followed them out onto the landing and watched as they descended the steps into the Common Room, but I did not follow. From what I could tell, the entire House of Slytherin had all been assembled below. I looked down at the students trying to see if I recognized any from when I was a student. But they were all so young, and wasn't exactly in a good frame of mind back then. They would be fifth sixth and seventh years now, and would all look so different... For a moment, I considered sneaking down to them, but I stopped myself. I stayed above - hidden by a stone pillar, still dripping water onto the floor. I had no shoes, I was cold and water kept running from my hair into my eyes, but I did not dare move. Somehow, I already knew why they had all gathered.

And then, she – the one whom they must have meant spoke – calling the room to attention. She had dark brown hair, pulled back into a long straight braid, and several other students flanked her at either side.

From what I could tell she was one of the pretentious Pure-Blood elitists who came from a long unbroken line and far too much money. She was out of uniform, and her robes were immaculate and meant to impress. That's how her kind always dress, and they always hold their heads up in that haughty manner, so that even when you are taller then them – they still look down their noses at you. Her kind never used to bother me when I was in school, I was even friendly with some of them, but now that know how they take their Pure-Blood bull shit too far – now that I have seen what her kind is capable of…

"Is everyone here? Elisa – note that anyone who walks in late or who is not in attendance will not be excused." When she spoke, she even sounded like a bitch.

Then the girl beside nodded. So that was Elisa then. She was far less pretentious, she wore her uniform with her shirt untucked and her dark blond hair was not styled to perfection. She reminded me of the Slytherin girls who had so much money that they did not care, or just, did not care in general, more like a Hufflepuff. She certainly did not seem all too happy to be standing there. "What about Joan?" she asked of the first girl.

The first girl shot her a nasty look. Clearly she did not like to be questioned. "I know Joan is not here – she is not here for a reason – the reason we are here."

"Why exactly are we here this time Matilda?" a boy with brown hair asked her. He had been sitting at the table reading, I hadn't seen him at first but he was one of the few students not giving her his full attention – for he was buried in a mountain of books and parchment. He was small but spoke up with a surprising amount of courage for one who seemed to be so bookish. And then I saw it...he wore a Prefects badge. So did Elisa, and so did the first girl, whom I now knew was Matilda. The two other boys standing with them also wore badges. So that was five of the prefects, and I assumed Joan was the sixth.

Matilda was clearly growing irritated. "We are here to discus the current situation Andre – why else would we be here, now forget about your work this is far more important."

Andre – the skinny bookish one got up begrudgingly to join the others. He took Elisa's side, which made sense seeing as they seemed to be like minded in respect to the aformentioned current situation.

"We are here," Matilda said in an arrogant tone, "to address the rumors that Slughorn will be leaving us as Head of House." The gathered students who had previously stood rapt with attention broke into panicked whispers and mutterings. "As you all know," she said instantly regaining their attention, "for the past week Horace Slughorn has been absent from class and he has not been reachable either. Furthermore have not been able to speak with him or the Headmaster about this. Well I am here to tell you, that the rumors are in fact true."

Her statement sent a shockwave through the crowd. Everyone was upset, even some of the Prefects. "Yes," Matilda continued. "It is true. Horace is gone, and we currently have no Head of House at all." This time she wait for the frantic whispers to cease so she roared over all of the assembled, "Horace, has in fact been absent from Hogwarts for over a week. All this time we have been along. But rest assured, you have no reason to fear! You have not reason to even think that this changes anything at all. As all of you know, Horace was a good man, but a rather ineffective Head of House. He allowed us to do whatever we wanted, and we have always thrived in that manner. We, the Prefects, have run this house and we have been perfectly capable of doing so with out the aid of the system. I am here to reassure you that we will continue to run this great house better than any appointed professor ever could." She seemed quite certain in this, for she spoke with intense confidence, and no hesitation whatsoever.

The crowd calmed down, but not completely. Some of them began to shout obvious questions to her.

"Will we get a replacement!" one boy shouted.

"He's gone! He's really been gone for a week?" a girl nearly cried out in a shrill voice.

"When were they going to tell us this?" another yelled.

"They can't just leave us with out a Head of House!" another young girl shrieked.

"Why didn't Dumbledore tell us!" screamed another older girl. Yes, why were they forced to find this out alone? I shifted my weight and suddenly remembered that I was standing soaked behind a pillar. This was all so ridiculous.

"I told you!" Matilda said, "We don't need a Head of House, we have been functioning with out one for ages."

It wasn't enough. The tall muscular Prefect boy with short dark hair beside her spoke up for the first time. "We have, but what about Horace, some of us did have… you know – agreements in place with him." He wasn't too bright saying that out loud. Surely they have better euphemisms for family bribes than that.

Matilda stomped and rolled her eyes, "Yes Albert we know. But we don't need him. Must I keep explaining this to you? When and if they do send a replacement," she was careful to emphasize the word if. "We will all reach agreements with that person at that time." She really was fearless and overly confident.

"What about Slytherin's Monster?" a younger student asked. It's always the first years who fear that old fairy tale.

"There is no Monster!" Matilda shouted. "Once and for all - forget those foolish rumors! Our founding father was not so cruel as to leave a monster in this house. Certainly he would not leave one to attack his beloved Slytherins."

Another frail and terrified young girl cried out. "Yes but doesn't the Head of House hold it back by magic – if there is no Head of House who is holding it back!" I felt bad for her. She was actually trembling when she spoke. I hate those older Gryffindor boys and the bullshit stories they use to torment the first year Slytherins. They do this every year, and always to the frailest of small girls it seems. It never ceases to disgust me.

The fifth Prefect boy with reddish blonde hair - who seemed as frail as the frightened girl, had no such sympathy. "There is no damn monster!" he snapped. "For God sakes let it go. Even if there is a monster, it's not coming out. If there is a monster, and we find it – we will kill it." I hope that by "we" he meant himself and that muscular boy called Albert. This boy even sounded like a whiney girl when he spoke.

"Elwyn is right." Matilda said agreeing with him – so Elwyn was the whiney one. Then, just as Matilda was reassuring the crowd of their ability to defeat Slytherin's Legendary Beast - the door flew open and a girl ran in. She was completely frantic and out of breath. Everyone fell silent, even Matilda. All eyes were upon her as she raced to the center of the room where the other prefects stood.

That must be Joan I thought… She rushed to stand beside Matilda, and then nodded obediently to her. "Silence everyone, Joan has information that she will share with all of you." Joan seemed to relish the power and attention given her by Matilda. But rather then address the students, Joan first whispered her gossip to Matilda alone.

Joan I noted, seemed to be of almost equal social status to Matilda. She had long straight brown hair, perfectly pulled back into a pony tail. She was immaculate in clothing and appearance, but she was still in uniform – which likely meant that her family's old money had all but run out. They always hide it that way.

I tried to read Matilda's expression. She was trying to hide her feelings from the crowd, but she was steaming with fury and a mixture of shock. Joan did not wait for Matilda to absorb what she had been told and turned immediately to the students. "It's true. I have just received an owl from my father, whom as you all know works for The Ministry" Joan was almost as arrogant as Matilda, and was enjoying the attention far too much. "Horace Slughorn has left us. My father has informed me that the rumors are all true. He resigned as Potions Master and Head of House days ago. Dumbledore has already appointed his successor as both Head of House and Potions Master-"

"Does he know whom!" more than a dozen people asked her at once. It was over. The moment I'd been dreading since I'd taken my place behind that pillar.

"He knows." Joan told them, "But Dumbledore has not made any formal announcements nor does he have any plans to do so any time soon. Thankfully we in Slytherin have no need of aid in this school. From our families – people like my father - we know before everything before anyone else. So there is that to be thankful for."

"Joan stop dragging it out." Andre said. Several people laughed. Even I almost did.

"Laugh all you will Andre." She snorted. "You might as well. Guess who they are sending as Horace's replacement." But Andre said nothing.

"Who are they sending us!" one of the younger students demanded.

Joan looked out to the crowd, I couldn't breathe, "Severus Snape."

"WHAT!" The reaction was instantaneous. Everyone erupted into indignant disbelief. It was awful.

"Who the hell is Severus Snape?" someone shouted above the din. More people shouted things.

Someone else cried out, "Him! That creepy kid who used to hang out with Avery's gang!"

"Didn't he gratduate um – a year ago?" a girl screamed in fury.

Someone yelled, "Isn't he a Death Eater?"

"Isn't he dead? I thought he was dead!" a boy yelled.

"Obviously he's not dead! As to being a Death Eater he was just acquitted by The Ministry – read the Prophet!" Elisa yelled.

"Wasn't he that creepy kid who sat alone reading every night?" one of the old girls said.

"I remember him! He was stoned all the time with Wilkes and all them!" another older girl added.

"Everyone was stoned back then. You'd be stoned too if Dumbledore hadn't cracked down!" Andre yelled above everyone.

"Who the fuck is Severus Snape! Do we even know his blood status!" Elwyn began ranting. "Is Dumbledore out of his God Daman mind making him Head of House? He is nobody! For god' sake's he is our age! What is he, two years older than us?"

"Six years" Joan said darkly. "He is six years older that we are Elwyn. And only five years older than Matilda and Albert." Right. So that would make Matilda and Albert the Seventh years, Elwyn and Joan the sixth years, and the two I don't hate, Elisa and Andre are the fifth years then.

"Fucking hell! What business has he of being a teacher – let alone Head of House! This is absurd out parents won't stand for it!" Elwyn screeched.

"Enough!" Matilda shouted. "This is perfect – don't you see it! Severus Snape is nothing! He is just some worthless, weakling of a boy who took the job because no one else will and he is clearly desperate after having been accused of being a Death Eater. He has nothing on us. We will maintain control of this house. We will not be beholden to Severus Snape or anyone!"

"Matilda, what makes you so sure he will let you walk all over him?" Andre interrupted. I really like that kid.

"He will. I am absolutely certain of this, and do you know why genius? Because that is exactly what he used to as a student… when he would let all those Gryfindors walk all over him, curse him and beat up on him." Matilda said in a mocking sing-song voice. I really hate that bitch.

I hate her and I fucking hate everyone, because of course, they all laughed when she said this, save for a few... What does it matter that a few did not find this amusing. It had all come true, my worst fears of teaching…. They all remember. They all knew who I was and they will hold it over me forever.

They all finally stopped laughing long enough for one of them to cry out – "What is his blood status – who is he!"

Matilda made a look of disgust and rolled her eyes. "He is a Half-blood – the son of a nobody of a witch and some low-life Muggle. They were poor, and lived like rats in an impoverished town among Muggles. Elwyn is right. This is an outrage. His appointment is a disgrace to the whole Houses of Slytherin. Still we-" but she was cut off by Andre

"Oh come off it Matilda. There are Half-Bloods in your family, you are –" but Andre was cut off by Matilda.

"How dare you!" she said in a shrill voice, finally breaking her forced composure. "That is blasphemy! I will not have you in any way tarnish the Weston name! My father is a great man! Ours is one of the oldest and most distinguished names in the Wizarding World! Our line is almost as ancient as the House of Black. It is unbroken and untarnished by half-bloods – such as yourself." Everyone began to laugh at Andre.

"There is not one half-blood in her family Andre. In fact of all the Prefects, you are the only one who is not descended from an ancient and distinguished line." Joan said with gleeful malevolence. Everyone continued to laugh as she continued to taunt him. "Let's see shall we my family, the Ogden's have all been important members of the Ministry for generations. The Weston's go back beyond the Norman Conquest. Albert of the Runcorns, wealthy beyond measure, as are the Edgecomes from whom Elwyn is descended… Even Elisa Deverill, though she may deny it, her unbroken line can claim the Wand of Destiny among its ancestry! And what of you – Boyle, sun of a Muggle."

Andre scowled. "Shut it Joan. Your family is not so high ranking in the Ministry as you like to think it is."

"Don't you dare speak to her that way you Half-blood!" Matilda hissed at him. "And as to the rest of you, forget the Snape kid. If he gives us any trouble or disregards the former agreements with Slughorn, I will have our Albert Runcorn knock some sense into him." She said grinning from ear to ear. They all laughed. Runcorn smiled, cracked his knuckles then made a fist to show them all he meant it.

Idiot grunt of a Gryffindor masquerading as a Slytherin through family connections... I could hex him so horrifically he would forget his own name. Fists. What a fool.

Matilda spoke again, but something the energy in the room changed dramatically as she launched into another tyrade. She was so charismatic and passionate in her perfectly worded speech. She had the entire gather crowd mesmerized. They all hung breathlessly on her every word. Even I could not take my eyes from her - that is, until she started in on me. "Now. While we may have to put up with some pathetic former student as our Head of House for a time, I am absolutely certain this will not last long – I can assure you! My great father – my family – all of our families will have their say, and then that pathetic, scrawny, book worm will be sent packing and we will be given a proper Head of House!"

It was like an electric current. You could feel her reaching crescendo in her speech. You could feel the students ready to erupt at any moment. "Now!" She commanded "You must put your faith in us – your Prefects! We will rule this house! We will do all that is within our power to uphold the prestige and honor of this house! We need no Headmaster or Head of House to hold us back! We will drive away this impurity. We are Slytherins and we control our destinies – and the destinies of all the Wizarding World!"

The explosion of rapturous shouts filled the room in deafening torrent of sound. Their exact words I could not make out, but I knew… They were crying out together, for one thing – my blood. I took that as my cue. While they were still worked up in their frenzy I slid back from behind the pillar and crept back along the landing. Not one of them saw me.

Had I really just witnessed that? I could still hear them shouting far down the darkened hallway - there was no denying the thing. But did they really believe that? That they hate me and want to drive me away I understand. But to believe that could control the whole of the Wizarding World? Even Avery wasn't that fanatical. And who were these kids? Most were not even the children of well known, high ranking Death Eaters. Where was this odd behavior coming from? I didn't want to know. I had reached the room that I knew would lead to mine and wanted nothing more than to escape. From the water in the empty pool room I swam back into mine and could think only one thing - I had to seal up that hole in the wall.

I didn't even leave the water. I conjured stones and laced them into that wall like my life depended on it. I sealed that fucking thing and put a so many hexes and curses upon it so that no living soul could ever pass though. So help me God no one will ever get through that wall.

I took off my soaking wet clothes. I cared enough to lay them out on a table but did not bother to cast a drying charm on them. I was shaking as I wrapped myself in a blanket and it had nothing to do with the cold. My fears had been realized. The students do remember me as a freak. They do remember that I was beat up and a book worm, who got drunk and cut class when he was older. Then I realized, what does that even matter? So they know how pathetic I am... Half-Blood, poor nobody, Death Eater… They know nothing. They know nothing of the horrors and sins I have committed.

So they wish to drive me away… I could not blame them. I still do not. I knelt on the floor, curled up in the corner as I had done so many times as a teenager… All I could hear was their voices. Matilda, Elwyn, Joan … all of them... Everything they said repeated over and over in my head. I wanted so much to make it stop. I thought to go to Slughorn's Stores and steel another Elixir from him… and then I remembered. Those aren't Slughorn's Stores anymore, they're mine.

That thought finally drove me to the edge. Even now I hate to write it, to think back on what I did in that moment because I swore I would never do such a thing again. Every thing was bearing down so hard on me that I couldn't fight it any longer. I lost control, it burst forth from me like fire and before I'd even realized what I was doing – I cast Sectumsempra on myself.

Sixth year… that's how long it has been. Yes, I did it so that the physical pain of having my flesh ripped open would overtake the pain of being ripped apart inside but I have not committed that sick, sinful act since my sixth year. I swore I would stop. I swore I would only to use it against enemies and not upon myself but I'd done it. And as if that wasn't bad enough, this time, I took things one step further…

When I was young, I didn't understand the spell. I only cast it unconsciously in my horrific emotional outbursts. Just as instinctively and unthinking as I'd cast the thing, I'd counter it with another spell I did not understand. But now I am older. I do understand. I do know how to control it. So rather than immediately counter it, seal my wounds and stop the bleeding, I waited. I knew I could counter it – but I waited, I let myself bleed for several moments, watching the blood seep from my arms and my chest as I sat their thinking of all I had done to Lily – there – her. As the image of her flashed in my mind - I sealed my wounds in seconds. No. I won't do it – I will not permit myself to die – I cannot take the easy way out.

But even as I found myself determined to fight, I felt myself losing consciousness. I suppose I could have fought harder, but I was still so disgusted with myself for having committed the act that I allowed myself to faint.

I woke up several hours later. Night had come, for the room was in darkness, but I could still make out the blood stained sheets that were l tangled about me. I fought them off and stood up. I wasn't easy, I'd lost blood and I hadn't really eaten. I nearly fell. Still, I crossed the room with out thinking and stood before the window. Past the wall holding back the lake through the surface of the water I could still make out the sky. Blackness, scattered stars and the tiny sliver of silver moonlight hung above me.

I was still staring at the moon when I became aware of the pain. My whole body ached, but there was something else stirring within me, something that didn't hurt. I don't know if it was dulling the pain, or if it was fueled by it.

I didn't understand it at first, but then, why would I? I've not had such feelings for years, but as I watched the sliver of waxing moonlight, I began to understand it. Hope. Because it was there... Days of darkness would have passed, no light in the dark black sky, just the void of it… but it came back. It was small and frail but it came back.

Is it possible? Is it? Life does not just… end? I was standing there, I was in pain – I was still alive. Was I not alive for a reason? For him? And if it is true, and he has her eyes, then the light of her eyes has not left this world. She lives on in him. And if she lives on in any way, no matter how small, then there is all the reason in the world for me to be here – to keep fighting. From no where I felt such an intense surge of emotion – for him. For no reason, this child that I do not even know – whose life I have ruined - to whom I am bound forever. It wasn't guilt, and it wasn't duty, I actually wanted to help him. The world has not ended – as long as he is alive... somehow I know everything will be all right. The darkness didn't take him, just as it didn't take the moonlight. So help me God – the darkness will not take me either.

And that was it. I swore on that moment, on that sliver of moonlight, and on all things that I hold sacred that I would do it. Whatever it takes I will do it. If I have to teach, if I have to return through my darkest thoughts, live alone forever or even fight The Dark Lord myself - I will not fail her son. Fear or pain will not stop me. I will do this.

That left only the question of how I would do such things, for I am neither brave, strong, or even stable. Dumbledore was right I couldn't even cast a Bat bogey hex to defend myself... it was Lily who came to defend me against James Potter. I do not dare to ask her to grace me with strength or forgiveness now, for I deserve none. Somehow I would have to fight for myself from now on…

I was Virtuous once. I was a good student once. I devoted myself to my studies and when things were truly terrible, I wrote in my journal. Of course, I had nearly forgotten. Focus only on work so I can forget my feelings, and if that failed, write what I can not scream.

And that is why I am writing now. I know what I have to do, and I know now how I will do it. I do find peace in that… And now that I am nearly caught up to the present in my writing - I can sleep. I hope. If I do, it will be for the first time since all the horrors have happened, that I will sleep peacefully with no dreams or memories at all.

~Monday 9 November 1981 – Early Evening, My Room

I had only one violent dream last night, and the person about to be tortured was me so it is an improvement of sorts, not seeing those that I love have to suffer….

I am now caught up with the events of the past few weeks, for the most part. It is a set back that all of my memories have not yet returned… but at least I can let go of my thoughts and actions from the past few days

I have been Virtuous these past few days… I have forced myself to eat, more or less like a normal person. I try to sleep at regular hours and when I am awake I devote myself to reading and writing.

Tomorrow, I will try my hand at potions. It's been years since I've truly done it. I am forced to admit now how terrified I am to try. What if I fail?

Less then a week remains until I must teach. One way or another I must regain the ability to brew potions. That still leaves the task of retrieving my Death Eater Robes as Dumbledore ordered. Perhaps it is for the best that no further memories have returned to me. Now that I must return to that place, I fear the memories from those days. But do it I must…

At least today I was at peace to read.

~Tuesday 10 November 1981 – Late at night, My Room

I did it! I managed to brew potions – more then managed. It was so wonderful. I forgot how good it felt… to have my hands engaged in something so constructive.

I was so nervous this morning, but I force myself. I took potions from Horace's Stores – my stores if I can ever get used to that – and in his office – which I am definitely not prepared to call mine – I went through dozens of old recipes. My hands were shaking at first but in no time it all came back to me. As soon as it did, I wondered how I could have ever been so fearful of the thing…

It all comes down to precision, concentration and intuition. Follow the written steps exactly, and nothing will ever go wrong. Knowing the solution, focusing on that which I am attempting to create, and natural instinct takes over. I know that the dry cold of November means that I will need less shrivel figs then the recipe calls for, and will have to simmer the mixture for a slightly shorter period of time.

I felt alive. I felt warmth in my hands that was caused by more than just the flames beneath the caldron…

How could I ever give this up? I love the art of potion making more than I can express. Perhaps teaching won't be so horrific. After all I am that good… Why should I fear to teach it?

-Because there are other things to fear. Tomorrow, I must face the darkest days of my past. Tomorrow I return to Hogsmeade. It has only been a few weeks and yet – that was eons ago. I must read now. I must only think on potions and transfiguration for the moment. Must not think on anything else. For that is how I have always functioned. Work hard, and do not think or feel. It's the only thing that ever works. I must be extremely disciplined in my existence from now on, or the consequences will be unthinkable.

~ Wednesday 11 November 1981 – Late Afternoon, My Room

I have returned from Hogsmeade unscathed. No one saw me, but then again, no one ever did. I crept up to the dingy old inn and I went up to the crawl space where I had hidden for so long. I looked down at the cramped space between the walls of the two buildings… the dry spiltting wood, the light that barely made its way through the cracks, the straw and wood shavings upon which I had slept… I felt nothing.

I suppose that was fitting, seeing as I felt nothing for those three years. I just lay there, reading, coming out once in a while to make it seem as if I did The Dark Lord's bidding in earnest. I was about to think on it – but I grabbed the robes and left.

Now I am here, and I have them. I have done what Dumbledore asked, and tomorrow I will bring them to him. I am certain he will want to hold on to the robes himself. Surely he will not trust me with them. He shouldn't. Look what happened when I did carry out the Dark Lord's bidding. I'm afraid to see Dumbledore tomorrow. And yet, for all my fear, I do want to see him. It's stupid really. Despite all of my hope, it will go badly and that is why I am afraid. He never warmed to me as he did all the others.

That's all there is and there is nothing for it. I will read a few books then sleep.

~Thursday 12 November 1981 – Night – The Office

I'm not quite ready to go to my room. I am still too troubled. Why I am here I do not know. I think I like being around the books and the glass jars full of ingredients. My room is so, devoid of such things…

Today was worse than I could have imagined. How the school frightens me more then a cramped crawl space.

I took the robes to Dumbledore. It was still morning when I knocked on the door to his office.

"Severus," he said seeming bewildered. "I was not expecting you, please come in." He seemed genuine. He wasn't playing games so I entered gladly. I do want his guidance despite my frequent frustrations with him. And despite what I may think most of the time, I do wish he had warmed to me as he had all the others.

Giving him my old Death Eater robe suddenly seemed terribly symbolic. They would be a peace offering. I hoped that in giving them to him, it would close a door to a terrible part of my past. Maybe if I were really lucky, things between us would improve, despite the strong odds that they wouldn't. Still, I graciously handed him the endless yards of sheer black fabric. "Sir, here. I've brought you my former Death Eater Robes as you asked."

He did not accept. "Thank you Severus, but you keep them. You will be the one in need of them at some point, not I." I just stared at him. I realized I was still holing my arms outstretched to him. I withdrew… reluctantly. So I will not be leaving that past behind me, it hurt more then he or anyone could imagine.

I am not certain if I attempted to conceal my feelings or not… either way, Dumbledore made no indication that he noticed my sorrow. He just smiled at me and said, "Walk with me Severus, it is a beautiful clear day and I do find the grounds lovely at this time of the year… Of course you can leave the robes behind here for now if you like." I'm not sure if he was taunting me or being genuinely kind. I didn't care. I decided to walk with him. I too once found the grounds beautiful.

We walked outside out in the courtyard. I didn't say much. He talked a bit about being a student. Thes were all stories he has told countless times before in interviews and in speeches to the students. I suppose he has memorized these lines after having been asked the same questions so often over all those years. Will I sound like that one day? Will I tell the same rehearsed stories once I have become a professor? Will my rehearsed lines sound as idealized as his?

I never thought on it much as a student when I heard the same stories from him. But now that I am older and understand such things – I can tell he is not being entirely truthful. Those stories of his told the edited version of the truth, if there is any truth in those stories at all. He hides something. I saw that today as we walked. What he hides I do not know, but, perhaps I should be more forgiving when he acts so lofty and evasive towards me. I of all people should be forgiving to those who have something to hide.

I thought to ask him why he had failed to inform me that I was to be head of house, but I decided that would be counter productive to our discussion - seeing as I had come to him to make peace after all… The sun was beautiful as we walked. There are still leaves. When earlier we walked across the grounds to my trial, all I saw was grey. Today I saw the remnants of color – orange cold and even green. Everything was lit vibrantly lit in pale orange rays… the way that only an autumn sun can light such things. I was at peace. I had just resolved to try my best to meet Dumbledore half way - when I saw her.

I stopped dead in my tracks. My heart seemed to freeze instantly - I couldn't breathe at the sight of her.

"Yes," Dumbledore said without my even having to speak. "As I'm sure you are aware, that is the fortune teller whom you overheard that night. Her full name is Sybil Trelawney, and she has been teaching Divination here for some months now. I had a mind to do away with the subject, but I have had to take her on as a teacher, and lodge her here at the school permanently for her own protection."

I was going to be sick. I felt tears in my eyes. I fought like Hell to hold my ground and not break. She was not much older them myself, and yet I had condemned her to a life of imprisonment. That poor woman! Dear God I have ruined another life and I had not even considered the fate of her that I overheard. God forgive me….

I could say nothing to Dumbledore. What could I say? I couldn't breathe let alone speak. But he spoke…

"She does not know, and I think it best that she never finds out why she is here." He said. I nodded, and he beckoned me to follow him back to the castle. I followed him not knowing where it was that we walked. I should have known. We returned to his office. We had to return to the office, becuase my robes were there.

Severus Snape, the perpetual Death Eater - still in possession of his robes, still branded with the Dark Mark - even after the Dark Lord has perished I can not escape my fate. Once a Death Eater, you're always one.

And I must keep my robes now for if the Dark Lord does return I will have to wear them once more. I will be forced to lie to his face and tell him that I have become a professor as he asked so that I might spy on Dumbledore and what remains of The Order. I do not fear to face him. I have done so before.

What I cannot abide is the fact that I must see Sybil Trelawney in the halls of the school… How can I face her after what I have done? I have forced her to live as a prisoner in a tower of Hogwarts like some cursed fairy tale princess. As it is I cannot bear the guilt of my countless sins and now I must learn that I have ruined yet another life…

And in the shadow of all my sins, I am to be Head of House. Guardian of the Slytherins. Little monsters they may very well be for what I saw the night I snuck into the Common Room, but they do not deserve an actual monster to be their Head of House. They are only children after all…

Dumbledore did not say anything to me really after we encountered Sybil Trelawney. Perhaps that was his point all along. That was no walk to take in the November air as he said… he did that so that I would see her. He did that to express his anger at me for having involved her in all this as well. He was angry when he told me about her. It wasn't obvious, but I could tell – just as I can tell he is hiding something – that he is absolutely furious with me. I suppose I should be grateful that he held back… and yet… I don't know. I just don't know.

I am afraid. Tomorrow is Friday. I have only the weekend. Caught up on events, reading, practicing potions, I still feel completely unprepared for all this. Now I must hope that the rest of my memories do not return. Dear God if I were to recall the lost events while I was in front of the class. I'm going to be sick. I have to stop now.

~Saturday 14 November 1981, Night – My Room

I decided to go for a walk today. After all, yesterday – prior to seeing Miss Trelawney, walking outside was quite a pleasant experience. I remembered – ages ago walking about the grounds when I had been a student. I did so like it then – but was always afraid to walk in the open where I was so vulnerable in the presence of the other students - unguarded by the staff…

I still felt today that I should be discrete. I walked along the borders of the Forbidden Forrest, for what do I really have to fear in that wood? Centaurs? Wolves? I fear no such creature. Humans on the other hand…

No, I was rather at peace today walking out by the trees. And here, in the Slytherin water… every night when I enter the pool I find I am less frightened when I am submerged in the warm waters. I swear there are healing charms cast upon the water in Slytherin… there must be – for even the aches and pains that have been plaguing me these past few days are lessoned.

I'm not sure why my body seems so soar. Is it because I have been effectively dead since having left school? That must be it. Now I come slowly back to life it is a painful process. I should sleep now, though I do not want to. Sleep brings me one day closer. Time will not stop…

~Sunday 15 November 1981, Early – My Room

I couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind. Perhaps I am too terrified to think on tomorrow, but all night, I couldn't stop thinking about the things I cannot recall.

I know writing has helped me, but there is still so much I do not remember at all. I don't know how I ended up in the castle. I only remembered recently why I left the castle that night, and yet I still don't remember Dumbledore bringing me back here - or anything that happened after he brought me back. Why don't I remember?

I know what I did. I know they are dead and that it is my fault. It just keeps gnawing at me, this terrible feeling… because I have no idea how I found out that it happened. I have no memory of it at all, and it scares me to death... how did I find out?

I should remember, but I can't. Who told me? Was it Dumbledore? I think I remember Madame Pomfrey… Did she give me something? Was my memory modified?

I feel this terrible lack of control and I hate it. I hoped writing would clear my thoughts and help me to remember. I do feel less confused and agitated but I still don't remember. I am beginning to think I don't want to remember. If I don't remember Dumbledore telling me, then… it never happened. It's not real.

For a moment just now – no. It's true, and I do not deserve such delusions. I will just have to accept this. Dumbledore told me, of that I am almost certain. After he told me, I must have been going off my head, and so they gave me potions to silence me. I was emotionally dead for days, and then I came to in the office just before the trial. It's logical… the potions they gave me would have been meant to wear off at exactly that time. That's the only thing that makes sense.

So be it. That's what happened. I can dwell on it no longer. I must go on.

~Sunday 15 November 1981, Late Evening – My Room

I sit watching the sun set thought the window in my room. There is nothing that can calm me now. My heart is racing. I can't breathe. I feel dizzy and sick. I can't do this, but I must.

Dumbldore stopped by earlier. "Just wanted to wish you luck, and to give you this. It is a schedule of your classes for the week," he said as he handed me the scroll of parchment. Luck. Luck? And the schedule? I don't dare even look at the thing. I can't.

Tomorrow I will see them – those students in Slytherin who hate me. Should I fear them most, or the students in the other house whom I have not even seen? And since when do I have such fear of Slytherin students? Even when I was a student – hated by most of the school - I could count on other Slytherin students to have my back. Slytherins look out for each other I have never feared my own kind. But they are not my kind anymore. I am no longer one of them- Oh dear God.

I can do this. I can. I will just do exactly what Slughorn did. I will walk in the room, I will stand behind the desk – tell them to use their books – get their ingredients from the stores and that will be it. Though I will be terrified, I will show no fear, my voice will not shake and I will do this….

I am so afraid. Lily I do not dare ask your help. I do this for you. I will find the strength to do this. I do not dare ask your forgiveness, I do no dare ask your blessing. Wherever you are, be at peace, and I swear to you I will do everything in my power to protect your son. If I am to stand and be stoned by the students tomorrow then I will do it.

Sleep in peace Lily. Sleep in peace Harry, Sybil, Evan, Caligula, James and Tisiphone. I am so sorry to all of you, I am so sorry.

Sixteen more hours…


	7. Chapter 7

~Monday 16 November – My Room Evening

I made it. I survived my first day as a Professor, though I still do not feel like one. It wasn't terrible, and yet it wasn't at all easy. I feel so tired and so drained from the attempt. I cannot begin to imagine how I will manage this again tomorrow, or all the days after that. For now, at least I can say that I survived this one day, so surely that must mean I can do this... I must do this.

It was almost funny, for when I first work up this morning, part of me I understood how ridiculous I was being. I realized that Dumbledore had been right… _again_. I had offered to kill all of the remaining Death Eaters with no hesitation and I feared to teach children? It _was _absurd. And so, with that thought in mind I got up from my bed and walked across my room to the desk by the window. I finally raised my nerve to look at my class schedule… I opened the parchment with trembling hands but when I saw the list, I nearly smiled. Hufflepuffs. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in the third year would be my first class. The kindest students and most well mannered students in the school... If the Ravenclaws hated me, they would never act upon it. As to the Hufflepuffs, they could never hate anyone, not even a poor, wretched half-blood, replacement professor such as myself…

I have said it since my seventh year, though never publicly – I bleed green but I love the Hufflepuffs. I said such horrible things about them when I was younger, but in my last year I finally came to understand them and see them for the good people they truly are. Hufflepuffs are not judgmental. They don't look down upon others - they let them be. They would never do or say anything cruel - to any one. After all I have been through of late - I have never been so grateful to see yellow…

I can do this I told myself - then I did everything within my power not to think on it as I prepared for the day after all. I still had one last challenge to face before I could confront my classes. Breakfast. From now I on will have to eat in the Great Hall with everyone else. No more hiding in my room. No more hiding from anything…

I was so exhausted when I left my room. I am still not used to being awake at such hours despite all of my efforts to acclimate. There were students walking through the corridors as I made my way to The Great Hall. It was terribly unnerving. Aside from my unpleasant visit to Slytherin, it was the first I had seen of the students, as I have avoided the main halls these few weeks. I kept staring down at the floor as I always do while I walked and I did my best not to look at anyone. As far as I can tell, most of them ignored me.

Finally I reached the door near the front of the room - the door I'd only entered a few times as a student, the door that only the professors use. Once again I was struck again by how wrong it all was. I froze in the doorway. I was overcome by the familiar sound of students talking and laughing, dishes clanging and the way the echoes rebounded from the walls of that massive room. The smell, the overwhelming gold light– I _knew_ this place. I was terrified, and yet again - almost as strongly as the feeling had been in Slytherin, it came to me – _home_. This was my home.

What was I doing? I was walking without thinking about it. I was walking toward the staff table, not because I wanted to but because I _had_ to. Oh dear God – where do I sit? Was I even supposed to be there? I knew I was, but in that moment I was so terrified that I had been wrong – that I'd made a mistake. Surely there could never be a place for at _that_ table. What shall I do – what shall I do! I would lower my head to the block if I could but find it. Dear God I must have looked so frightened and lost. _Move_ I remember telling myself – do it now before somebody sees. But of course, I had been seen.

"_Severus."_

I was so annoyed with myself that it took me a moment to recall the voice. It was so familiar… it… _McGonagall!_

"Severus!" She called out to me again in exasperation, "Come here!" She spoke to me just as he had when I was a student. I forgot my humiliation at being lost. I walked straight over to her as she had commanded. I have never been so happy to be scolded by her - anything to be a student again and not be in this position. "You're sitting here boy."

"_Boy."_ She had called me. It was the first time I wasn't insulted to be referred to as such. I sat down and just as I was about to thank her when she started to laugh.

"Well I guess I can't call you boy anymore can I Professor Snape!" She was covering her face with her napkin, she was laughing so hard she could barely finish her sentence. "I'm sorry!" she said as she turned to me, placed her hand on my wrist and smiled – "Welcome to the staff Severus."

I didn't know what to say, "Thank you…Professor McGonagall." I couldn't exactly call her Minerva. Still she meant it. She hadn't laughed to be cruel either. I know. I have experience. I can tell the difference between mocking laughter and the way she had laughed. With that she resumed her conversation with Professor Sprout and I did my best to make it look as if I was eating. I felt so sick, but I couldn't let on that I was too tense to eat. If that were all that would I have to endure, I would have been fine… just sitting there beside McGonagall and the current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher….

I would have been fine, but as I feared - Dumbledore stood up to address the students. "May I have your attention please," Oh God no, "I would like you all to please give a warm welcome to the newest member of our staff, Professor Severus Snape, who will be replacing Horace Slughorn as Potions Master and as Head of Slytherin House."

I wanted to die. I couldn't move. I barely lifted my head do look out to the students. What I must have looked like to them, hiding behind my long black hair I can only imagine… But I finally I allowed my eyes to sweep the room, catching the Slytherin table last. My fears were realized. Most of them were glaring at me in silent fury. Some clapped… The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws all clapped… even the Gryfindors managed to feign enthusiasm for my appointment. That must have been a first. Gryfindors clapping for a Slytherin Professor when the Slytherins would not... I was left at a loss so I hung my head, covering my face completely with my hair. I turned back as if I had meant to look at Dumbledore.

"Thank you," he said to the students, "I am sure you will all be more than accommodating given this unorthodox change of staff in the middle of term."

Oh dear God that's right. Being the middle of term, this will inconvenience the students and be even more disruptive to them. It will make them that much more likely to rebel. The Slytherins had already plotted my overthrow. The rest of the school would soon join them for sure.

_No._ I don't care about them I told myself. Fueled by my hatred of those horrible students in Slytherin - the last shreds of my strength came together. I wasn't going to let them stop me. I have to do this for Lily - and for him. For he is hope and they are…nothing. I wasn't going to let them do this to me…. as his father had done. There. I glared back out at them. _You will not stop me_, I repeated in my mind as if they could hear. You little parts are _nothing_ compared to James Potter. I survived him - I will survive you. I almost smiled at the thought. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and even that Pettigrew kid may have made my life hell, but they taught me how to take punches. Go ahead - attack me, I'm used to it. Besides… I'm already dead so none of this matters. On that thought I left to teach my first class.

Despite my defiance, my hands still shook when I opened the door to the classroom. I sat down at Slughorn's desk, which I had reluctantly come to accept as mine. Either he or Professor O'Malley had left a book open upon the desk, _Magical Drafts and Potions_ – full of notes from Slughorn. I would need it desperately if I were to survive the first class. Half an hour… fifteen minutes… ten… five… two… I could hear them… one… Finally the hour was nine. I crossed the room, took a deep breath, opened the door and let the students into the room.

They were so small. Most raced in under my arm as I held open the door. The Hufflepuffs had all run in while the reserved Ravenclaws entered the room after most of the Hufflepuffs had gotten to their seats. I walked back to my desk and pretended to read form Horace's notes while I waited for them to quiet down, though I'd long since memorized those notes. I would have to speak. Stupid really. How such a simple thing could be so difficult for me. My throat had closed up, but they had quieted down and…

"You are currently learning how to correctly brew Shrinking Solutions is this correct?" Just as in my trial, I spoke with a voice that did not seem to be mine… but it was. And just as in my trial, I know it had taken many of them a moment to even notice that I had done so because I speak so softly.

But they had heard, for one Hufflepuff girl called out, "Yes Professor. We learned a little about them from Professor Slughorn, but then Professor O'Malley came. She just had us read because she said she didn't feel right teaching us brewing methods."

She called me Professor. She called me – _Professor_. Professor? How could I be such a thing? I don't feel like one at all, but there I was sitting behind that desk... And so, feeling like a student who was merely sitting in for a professor for just the one day, I taught them how to brew a Shrinking Solution.

It wasn't a complete disaster. The Ravenclaws did relatively well. But the Hufflepuffs… watching them I remembered in full why we said such terrible things about them. Several times I nearly snapped at them but I managed to not do so. Finally they left after the double class period. I spent the majority of the free class time that followed cleaning up the mess.

Lunch was fairly uneventful, and the second set of double classes with the second year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs was much the same as the first. They were quiet and polite and did not talk over me as I explained the lesson to them. Not one of them laughed at me or whispered behind my back, which made it all the more difficult for me when they began brewing the solution. Again the Ravenclaws were proficient, but many of the Hufflepuffs struggled. Some of them managed, but others did not understand at all - no matter how many times I explained it to them. It was so frustrating and just as before I nearly snapped at several of them…

Again I spent a good hour cleaning up the mess. As much as I was angry at first, to be cleaning up after their mistakes… I began to feel guilty for having been so cross with them. They were all so understanding and patient with me, why could I not be patient with them? I didn't let on that I was angry, but still I felt terrible.

That in the end was the real challenge of the day. And now here in my room I am afraid again. I am not afraid that the Slytherins and Gryfindors will attack me, I am afraid I will attack them, or worse, what if I lash out at the Ravenclaws or the Hufflepuffs?

What if I become him! What if I become like that horrible man who would scream at me for the slightest misstep? I was a child – just as they are now. I know I will never forget how terrible it felt to be screamed at like that. It doesn't matter how old you get. It never leaves you.

Even now - even in front of the class I jump at the slightest sound… because you never know when the next attack might be coming. Always I am so careful - so nervous and aware of everything. Is he not the reason my hands began to shake in the first place? Is my helplessness to do anything in the face of such unyielding anger not where I learned to lie down and play dead? To cry and not fight back when James Potter and the others attacked me? It is.

Dear God I cannot do that to anyone else. I don't want to be like – _that_ one. I won't. I refuse. I have always refused. I took my mother's name…Prince. Prince and not Snape... I chose to be like her. I chose to cry and not yell.

So it made me weak… I would rather be weak and afraid than cruel.

I swear now, on my mother's name that I will not be like him. For her, for Lily, for her son, for all of my students and future students - I will _never_ raise my voice. No matter what happens. I will fight with all of my strength not to get frustrated… but even if I lose my temper with them, I swear I will never scream or raise my voice to them.

In this I will remain steadfast. Thankfully it will not be too difficult I think… I am so quiet. I have always been... It is as if I cried my heart out so often at home that I have hardly any voice left to raise.

So tomorrow I will face the first of the Slytherins and Gryfindors, and I will remain still and silent, no matter what they do to me.

~Tuesday 18 November – My Room Evening

I woke up feeling sick and nervous again. I felt less upset last night before I went to sleep - after all I did survive one day. But upon waking all I could think of was the houses. So what? It was just Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Today would place me before the, Gryfindors - the most hostile house, who have been relentless in their attacks against me since I had been a student. This should have been what upset me most but it wasn't. The Slytherin students now collectively hated me – likely even more than the Gryfindors. I was fearing what I once considered to be my home, my family. The pain of the betrayal had paralyzed me. I could not move from my bed.

How could I? Not only would I have to face the forth and fifth year Slytherins and Gryfindors – but today I would have no free period and no time to breathe. Worst of all, today I would have to face my first class of N.E.W.T. students. No need to check my roster, I knew _they_ would be in my class. Joan Ogden and Elwyn Edgecombe - for surely they and their families would have made some deal with Slughorn. No matter what their proficiency in potions, they would be there. Both of them so cruel and calculating… Already I could feel their eyes upon me, judging me, whispering to each other about my every misstep – ready to report back to their tyrannical seventh year counterparts Matilda Weston and Albert Runcorn.

I forced myself to get up and prepare for the day but still I could not stop thinking about them. What if they had already plotted some terrible thing to do to me? They know my weaknesses, just like Potter and his friends – and – just as I looked into the mirror while shaving, I finally I realized that I was reacting to all this as if I were a student. I am no student now I told myself. This is nothing like being a student. What was I afraid of? None of this is real. This is not my life.

As a student, my actions mattered. I was in school – with Lily. Back then there were consequences. I did things, I got hurt, and worse, other people got hurt. But none of that matters now. Everyone I care about is dead. I'm dead. I'm not even a professor! This is all an act. I'm only _pretending_ to do this to protect him - and he isn't even here. He is safe elsewhere. So none of this matters. None of this is real.

I left my room, and as a ghost I had breakfast with the others. I walked into my first class of the day. Forth year Slytherins and Gryfindors entered the room. I avoided their eyes as I sat barely looking up from the textbook or from Slughorn's notes. They were talking. I know that they had trouble hearing me speak. I didn't care. Some of them were paying attention and I relied on those students to help the ones who struggled. I did go out to the students towards the end of class to help a few of them. The Gryfindors, to their great credit were fairly well behaved. I gave one girl house points for helping a classmate. I gave house points to a Slytherin boy as well, since he had finished his Wit-Sharpening Potion before everyone else.

There wasn't much to clean up. So I ended up having a few moments to try and prepare myself for the N.E.W.T. class. I am a puppet I told myself - nothing more than a puppet controlled by an external force and nothing matters. I remembered how angry I was at Dumbledore just after my trial – how I accused him of using me as a marionette. Nothing had changed. I was still a marionette. I will be a marionette for the rest of this life and somehow I suddenly felt some sense of comfort in that. I was about to think on how odd that was but it was time for class to start.

I let the N.E.W.T. class into the room. Seven Hufflepuffs, twelve Ravenclaws, eight Gryfindors and fourteen Slytherins. Joan and Elwyn sat next to each other in the front of the room. They glared at me the whole time. It was awful. Most of the Slytherins, several Gryfindors and even a few of the Ravenclaws did the same. If I am a puppet, why do I feel things? Why do I feel hurt when they turn to whisper to each other while keeping their eyes upon me? Why does it upset me when they laugh and write things in their notebooks to show to each other with out even attempting to hide what they are doing? They caught my eyes and smirked at me in the most awful way as they did these things. They don't want to hide that they are mocking me. They _want_ me to know.

They were supposed to be working on brewing the Draught of Peace. I was reading, but I could hear several groups giggling. I tried to ignore them, but I stupidly looked up unable to bare it any longer. I caught her eye, and Joan instantly raised her hand, "Professor, forgive me, is it true that you never officially graduated from Hogwarts?"

Silence instantly fell over the room.

"What?" She had caught me off guard, but thankfully I kept my voice and my face from showing any emotion.

She smiled far too please with herself and said, "I just want to make sure you graduated, a few other students who have older siblings have told me-"

"I finished school," I nearly snapped at her to cut her off having finally figured out her meaning. I summoned all of my strength to remain composed and articulate as I answered her. "I did not attend the End-of-Term Feast if that is what you are referring to. But I did in deed complete all of my required courses. My failure to attend formal functions is of no concern to you. Does that satisfy you Miss Ogden?"

We stared at each other, both waiting for the other to break. "I just wanted to make sure," she finally said smiling falsely - barely containing her mocking laughter. Elwyn on the other hand sat besides her steaming with a fury he made no effort to hide.

Some were silenced, but others broke into laughter. I lowered my head and continued read as if I were unaffected by this. I tried to tell myself that I didn't care… I am a puppet and not of this is real.

The second day and already they were trying to discredit me in front of everyone. They know. How long until the entire school knows about it? Hours, at most… but soon they would all know how I felt so uncomfortable, so ostracized from the rest of the school that I could not bring myself to attend the End-of-Term Feast in my final year.

I couldn't do it. I hadn't the strength. I couldn't bear to face the other students… they were all going on to start careers lives and families. I was never going to have that. There was something wrong with me and I knew it. I didn't know how to have such a life… She was going to have that life and I was merely waiting to die. I had nothing else to hold on to, and I joined_ them_…

How could I go to the End-of-Term Feast after _that_? How could I say good-bye to a place that had been the closest thing I have ever had to a home? I was terrified to leave and yet I felt so betrayed by the school after all that had happened. But I turned my back on her – on this place. We betrayed each other.

I was so distracted by my thoughts that I barely heard McGonagall when she spoke to me during lunch. She asked me why I had not yet come to the Staff Room.

The Staff Room. It's quite one thing to have an office and feel wrong about it. For while that might be a frightful room - there I remain alone. To be made a professor, to be made Head of House at my age and stand in front of students who are only a few years younger than me is scary enough. But the Staff Room… that place is completely off limits to students - and I am practically a student as it is! How can I possibly enter that forbidden room? How, in God's name can I stand in that place and speak with my former professors - who knew me as a child not but three years ago and speak to them as my equals!

What do I really have to chat with Flitwick about? Shall I become friends with Professor Sprout? Is it not bad enough that I sit beside a Professor McGonnogal – a woman who once caught me half naked - snogging a girl in the hallway! I certainly haven't forgotten - how long until she brings that up? And she would. She may present herself as being a stern and callous in her classroom - but she has a cheeky side! I swear she's just waiting to bring up that incedent - or any other time she's had to take house points from me. Now I don't know what is worse – being with the professors or the students. I was almost missing my meetings with Dumbledore by the time lunch had ended. Funny, I hadn't thought much on it at the time, but he wasn't present at lunch. I don't remember anyone saying anything either…

My last set of classes for the day were blessedly uneventful. Fifth year Gryfindors and Slytherins. The Gryfindors did not giggle when I spoke, and when a set of Slytherin girls sniggered at me - the boy Prefect, Andre Boyle silenced them instantly. _Of course!_ Andre Boyle and Elisa Deverille! The two decent Slytherin Prefects! I have absolutely no idea why it is that those two have not yet turned on me as the others have done… But clearly they must have been keeping the fifth year Slytherins in line. Andre even did a fantastic job of creating a Strengthening Solution far faster than the others.

Elisa on the other hand ended up making a mess, but she was in good spirits about it. She even cleaned up after herself with out having been asked to do so. Afterwards she did her best to correctly brew the solution again - with some assistance from Andre. By that point, he was helping more students than I was. I gave him fifteen house points and left class feeling far less upset than I had all in days.

So here I am. Two days behind me… I feel all right I suppose. I'm tired, but at least tonight I should have no trouble falling asleep. So I suppose there are some positive aspects to this. I'm too tired at the end of the day now to feel upset. I will take a bath, maybe read and then sleep like the dead for a while.

~Wednesday 19 November – My Room Late

Awful. Today was awful beyond reason. No amount of fear, anxiety or paranoia could have prepared me for it….

I wasn't even afraid when I woke up early this morning. I was more annoyed than anything else. It was just so _early_. It was not however, the hour that bothered me - it was the fact that I _had_ to get up… I felt trapped and that made me angry.

But of course, I grew nervous as the morning progressed. I would have to teach the seventh year N.E.W.T. students after all. This would put in the same room as Matilda Weston and that grunt git Albert Runcorn. As much as I hate and fear Joan and Elwyn, Matilda and Albert are worse by far. Joan had not passed up an opportunity to have a go at me in front of everyone… So surely Matilda – the leader of those horrible students would have something far worse planned for me.

I threw water on my face, I fixed my hair as best I could and then forced myself to forget them. I finished getting dressed. Just breathe, don't think, just breathe and forget the fear. Just breathe… it was all I could do to still myself. I fastened the buttons on my coat slowly and cautiously, as if the precise meticulous movement would somehow steady my heart. Its not real - it's not real I kept repeating to myself as I sealed my sleeves shut. I am a puppet and this is not real.

My first class was fairly simple, and almost humorous. First year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. They were _so_ small. It's a good thing I don't ever stand up straight - I'd be twice their size if I had. So what if they were behind in their lessons? There was nothing intimidating about them at all. They made such a good effort to keep up as well...

I didn't want them to leave. I actually wanted to throw up as the time drew near to teach the Seventh years. There was hardly any age difference between us. Three years - four years at most. Not long ago, they knew me as a classmate. They will judge me, and would be right to do. And _she_ would be there… Both she and Runcorn have expressed their hatred of me. Less than a week ago I heard Matilda boast of her plan to get rid of me. Now I would see how she meant to implement it.

I let the N.E.W.T. class into the room. Matilda Weston walked in surrounded by four Slytherin girls. Runcorn entered alone, and did not sit anywhere near her. So they are not as close as Elwyn and Joan. Of course not. Why would someone like Matilda be involved with someone like him? They may be equals in wealth and society, but in the social circles of this school – she far outranks him. Such discrepancies in the generations are quite common in Slytherin. I've seen it countless times before. If anything, he is likely her lap dog.

I waited for the students to take their seats - but I waited too long. The silence was painful, but the breath had been stolen from my lungs and I couldn't speak again. Silence was not an option, so I forced myself to talk. I know my voice cracked and I was so angry with myself for displaying such weakness in front of them. I was speaking quieter then usual. I had to. I was far too afraid that my voice would shake if I were to speak any louder.

I finally looked up from the textbook and Slughorn's notes, my only companions. Thank God for the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. They were paying attention and even taking notes of their own. Half of the Gryfindors were laughing, though not in a malicious way… and then there were the Slytherins. They glared at me - trying to burn me with their stares. It reminded me of the way that I stare down Dumbledore when he has deeply insulted me, but there was something far more menacing and frightful behind their eyes.

I could easily have discerned their meaning through magic or even simple reasoning - but I looked away. I hid again behind the shield of Slughorn's notes. I did not want to know what the students were thinking. I just wanted it to end. N.E.W.T. classes are only single periods but it lasted an eternity. Why couldn't they just throw something at me or make some rude comment as Joan had done? Every time I looked up, no less than three of them would still be staring me down, their eyes narrowed, unblinking and full of hate. They wouldn't look away. If one did, another seemed instantly to take up their place. Was this planned? Were they taking turns? It was excruciating to endure. When it finally ended, I threw up. I had to, I haven't gotten upset like that since my forth year. I nearly began to cry, but I told myself how foolish I was being. _They_ are the students, not me. I am the adult. I had to stop. I needed to go to lunch – to sit there and make it clear to the students that they had not unhinged me in the least.

Dumbledore was gone again. Beside me, McGonagall and Sprout were talking and laughing together at the table. They seem so happy. How do they do it? When I sat in their classes they were so at ease. Right. They _chose_ to be professors.

Taking my time, picking at food, I tried to pass the time. I tried so hard to seem unaffected by anything… Eventually McGonagall turned to me. "Severus!" she exclaimed, "You still haven't come to the staff room. Come after your classes today!"

_Not now McGonagall._ But I forced myself to smile at her. I did not speak, for struggled even to manage a smile. "Where is Professor Dumbledore?" I finally asked. Not because I cared, but because I had to change the subject.

"Oh Ministry Business," she said as the cheer vanished from her voice. "One would think them incapable of functioning with out him. They've been calling him away on a daily basis since-"

She stopped short, the color drained from her face as I felt all the warmth leave my own skin. We looked at each other – both of our eyes wide with fear, and in a second - with out speaking we had conveyed the thought to one another,_ Don't say it... _for we both felt the same dread.

"Well," she said to shake it off, "I wouldn't worry, he should be back soon."

"Right." I said. I turned then and looked away. Our conversation had to cease and we both knew this.

My last class was nothing compared with the N.E.W.T. nightmare. Even if was a set of Gryfindors and Slytherins… The worst thing to happen was that a pair of Slytherin girls broke out into a nasty duel, evidently over a boy. I broke them up and took five points from each of them. I was lenient, I knew this - but I couldn't bring myself to take more points than that. I know what it is to loose one's temper over such a thing - particularly at that age... all too well.

I cleaned up the wreckage after they had all left and was rather happy to do so. I liked having something important to do that could be accomplished in solitude. It occurred to me, that I should perhaps clean the whole of the Potions Classroom. It was mine now after all, and cleaning it would give me an excuse to avoid the Staff Room. In truth I only entertained the thought for a moment. For the hour had grown late, there was far too much dust and I hadn't the strength. I was exhausted, so I started back for my room, telling myself I would make my excuses to McGonagall in the morning. No point in going to the Great Hall either, the light had long gone and I am certain I lingered long enough in the Potions Classroom to miss dinner.

I staggered back slowly through the hallways. All the while I was thinking about Matilda Weston, Joan Ogden and all the other students. Something about Andre's face, and some of the faces of the others... Weston, Deverille, Runcorn… so many other new names… So many _familiar_ names I can't quite place but I am certain I knew some of their parents or siblings in some former lost part of my life that I cannot fully recall…. My memory is far more clouded than I realized.

I walked slowly beside the wall. I ran my hand over the stones as I made my way, feeling each cold ridge and indentation. I pressed my fingers into the cold cracked mortar as if I could unlock some long forgotten secret in my mind. I was so lost in thought that I jumped back nearly two meters when he startled me _screaming -_

"What are you doing wandering the hall ways at this hour!" Filch! That filthy old git, "Get back to your Common Room!" he said, relishing every word. "_Oh _the Headmaster will hear of _this!_"

I don't know what it was, my exhaustion, the stress of the day or the grim nightmare that I am living - but I snapped. "_Damn_ you Filch! How _dare _you - I am _no_ student!" Glaring down at him, I dropped my head and my voice even lower, "I am a _professor_ – you have _no_ right to tell me where to be. You have no reason to talk to me at all!" with that I stormed off. Fueled by my fury, I did the stupidest thing I could possible have done.

I just had to get one over on him. I just had to prove my position, and in a brazen act of arrogance, I foolishly marched straight into the Staff Room. I pushed open the door and before I could take my first breath I realized the grave mistake I had made.

I panicked. How could I enter such a forbidden place! Why would I willingly walk into a room where I would undoubtedly be forced to speak to people I outright feared to speak with? What was I doing? I had to get out of there - but it was too late. "Severus!" McGonagall cried out. "Where on Earth have you been? The Headmaster has been looking everywhere for you!"

Of course, that makes sense I'm in trouble, I'm student wandering around after hours and - I was losing my senses. I looked around the room confused, but only McGonagall and Binns were there to witness my weakness. "What?" I finally said.

"He wants to see you," she said sounding fairly frustrated with me, "He is upstairs in his office."

I thanked her and made my way to the office. I wondered what he could possibly want from me as I climbed the steps. Whatever it was, I knew it would not end well. It never does.

"You wanted to see me Headmaster?" I didn't walk all the way into the room. I thought if I stood at the doorway, that perhaps I could end it faster. Maybe it would only be a quick word he wanted.

He looked up from his reading, "Severus, come in. Sit down!"

Damn it. I prepared myself for the worst and I did as he said. He folded his copy of _Transfiguration Today_ and placed it on the desk. "I am sure there is much you wish to discuss about your first few days of teaching, but I am afraid that will have to wait."

Really? Was he mad? The _last_ thing I wanted to talk about.

"As I'm sure you have noticed, I have been absent from the school for the past few days," he said, but not with out pausing for his usual dramatic effect... "I was at The Ministry. Crouch is still running through an intense series of trials, and while it seems they are finally winding down, I felt I should be the first to inform you about what has happened."

Oh dear God. What now? I couldn't possibly take anything else. I sucked back the saliva that had pooled in my mouth and swallowed hard. "What happened at The Ministry?" I asked gravely.

He took a long serious look at me and said, "Igor Karkaroff appeared before the Council of Magical Law today. He has been imprisoned in Azkaban for quite a long time now and wanted to make a deal to secure his release. He wanted to provide The Ministry with names… Severus, he named you."

_That's it!_ I'd been expecting far worse… "Sir?"

"He was desperate," Dumbledore explained. "He was frantically naming as many people as he could. When all of the information he volunteered turned out to be useless, he named you."

"Oh," I didn't know how to react, so I didn't.

He studied me a moment, then explained, "The good news here, is that everyone was shocked when he announced to all those gathered that you were a Death Eater."

But, that didn't make any sense. "How can that be? I was only tried…" I had lost track of time again.

"Fifteen days ago," Dumbledore said to finish my sentence. "Yes, your trial it seems has already been forgotten. The news that you have been named a professor at such a young age seems to have over taken any memory of your trial. With so many trials in such a short time, most people haven't the patients to keep up. Even I must admit a bit of difficulty in recalling the details!" He was smiling again – giving me that that abhorrent smug look he assumes when he is far too pleased with himself.

"Sir, what will this mean? Will I be tried again?" I knew the laws, but Crouch was on such a rampage. The Ministry had flouted laws and conventions in the wartime, as I know all too well, since the legalization of Unforgivable Curses claimed the lives of Evan and Caligula.

"Oh no!" Dumbledore explained, sounding again like some proud, know-it-all. "No you will not be tried again. I stood up to remind everyone that you have already been of great assistance to us and that you had my full trust, which of course no one questioned. But don't you see Severus? This is a good thing. The shock of those present proves that your trial went unnoticed or was quickly forgotten by most of the Wizarding world. And while I am certain this will be covered extensively in _The Prophet_ and widely discussed for the next several days, in time, this act of Karkaroff will be quickly forgotten as well." He stopped speaking and looked over his spectacles at me as if to see if I was still following him. "The next few days might be a bit difficult for you Severus. I wanted to make sure you heard it from me first."

I could only nod at him, for I had fallen completely speechless. My mind raced. This means, everyone will talk about me? Of course they will. Everyone will be reminded about what I had done – no not what I had truly done, just that I had been a Death Eater. I will be mentioned in _The Prophet_. _The Daily Prophet?_ Wait, had I been mentioned before! Oh dear God! I had never even considered such a thing!

Certainly my trial – and even my appointment as professor and head of house would have warranted some mention in _The Prophet_. Why hadn't I realized this! Then another horrid thought – _my mother!_ Oh thank God my poor mother doesn't read that paper anymore. But everyone else does! Karkaroff's trial – my being named a Death Eater is one thing – but being named a Death Eater _and_ Head of House…

I imagine Dumbledore had made some deal with The Ministry to keep my ties to The Death Eaters quiet when I was named Potions Master. To have it all brought to light again would be a disaster – not just for me, but for him for and the school as well. All this because of that stupid kid Karkaroff...

Funny. I never even thought much on Karkaroff, even at my trail when I was forced to remember things I would rather have forgotten. He was an annoying kid from what I can recall. He was a year or so younger than me. I only met him a few times, but unfortunately he latched on to me when all the other people in my circle refused to have anything to do with him. Avery and the others were always off with Lucius and those in the Inner Circle, so I was stuck with him for a few nights. We were both drunk. He talked a lot but that was all I could truly remember.

"Well what happened to him? Did they set him free in the end?" I looked up at Dumbledore and waited for the answer, though at that point I was far past caring.

"He has been sent back to Azkaban pending a review of the information he volunteered. I suspect though, that in the end he will be set free." He finished speaking, but I could tell by the look in his eyes there was something he was not telling me.

What is it you old fool? What are you hiding from me… but wait, I didn't need Legilimens, I already knew. "Sir, who else did he name?"

He paused and considered me for a moment before speaking. I couldn't take the suspense. This either would be really good or really bad. Knowing my luck, I was terrified to hear the answer - but I had to know. _Finally_ he spoke the names, "He gave up your name, Augustus Rookwood, Antonin Dolohov, Travers, Evan Rosier, and Mulciber"

"Mulciber! He named _William _Mulciber!" This couldn't be. I could not possibly be that lucky…

But Dumbledore nodded, "Yes he did."

I still couldn't believe it, "William, not his father?"

"Yes Severus," Dumbledore said sounding almost exasperated.

This was too good to be true. Mulciber had grown from a troublemaker in school to a sadistic, brutal thug. Oh how I had wanted to give him up at my own trial but Dumbledore would not let me. I could not name those who were a part of the Inner Circle as Mulciber had been. I couldn't help it - I felt my face break into the slightest smirk. I don't know which thought was more satisfying… the fact that justice might be carried out, or the fact that Mulciber had been given up - despite Dumbledore having prevented me from doing so. "Will they go after him now!

Dumbledore grinned at me, "Severus, he was already caught. Three days ago. His trial is set for next Monday."

"But they'll send him to Azkaban won't they! William Mulciber is a _monster!_ I've seen what he's done! Lucius Malfoy ordered them to do terrible things all the time but he on the other hand needed no prompting. Headmaster – he _can not _be set free." I was leaning on his desk by that point as the horrific memories flashed through my mind. I gripped the heavy wooden surface so hard with my fingers at the fear of it. If I had any fingernails I would have left such deep scratch marks in the thing, but of course I chew off all my nails from my nerves…

"I wouldn't worry Severus," he said calmly as he once again picked up his copy of _Transfiguration Today_. "There is more than enough evidence to convict him. Incidentally," he said lowering the magazine, "What did you do?"

"Sir?" What was he getting at?

He fixed me with his shifty blue eyes, "What did you do when Lucius gave those orders?"

I practically gasped, "I couldn't do that!" I stared at him, utterly stunned. "I walked away! I couldn't watch that! I couldn't be _near_ that!" I said this quickly with out even thinking. Still confused, I looked to Dumbledore. He had an odd look upon his face. What was this now? And that I began to understand it all, "You… think I should have stopped them." I grew sick at the thought - at myself. I should have done… I should have helped. And yet, help – stand up to them? What good would it have done?

"I didn't say that Severus," he was reading again, looking smug. "But you yourself think that they _should_ have been stopped. You had the choice to join them that night, but you walked away."

"_Choice?_ There was never a _choice_. I could never do that to any one _ever!_ I don't know how _they_ did it!" I nearly raised my voice.

"Severus, I _know_ that. That is why you are here now." Dumbledore looked at me and smiled. "Go back to your room Severus. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow. We will talk again soon. Come back here Friday evening after your classes have ended for the week, and we will speak further then. For now, get some sleep."

Fine. As usual he provokes me, than tells me to sleep. After all he has stirred up in me – I am forced to leave with rattled nerves and the knowledge that I would face a difficult day - not to mention the threat of another such meeting hanging over my head.

"Yes sir," I said to him, because as usual - there was no point in arguing. I left his office and walked quickly back to my room.

Mulciber caught - set for a trial, and I did not know. I myself named in the _Daily Prophet_, and I did not know. I have been remiss in neglecting the outside world, but I can no longer afford such indulgences. Especially not now that I myself shall be written about. So as I neared my room, I resolved to take up reading _The Prophet_ again.

I entered my room and lay back across my bed. All of those names brought back into light. Mine, Mulciber's, Evan's... Again Evan. He was the _innocent_ one - guilty of only being in the wrong place at the wrong time... the unfortunate son of a cruel barbarian father like mine. I was upset, so I had to write… and now I don't even know the hour, but I am still distressed and cannot sleep.

Karkaroff is such a coward. He gave up Evan, whom he knew was weak. I myself gave up the weak so that if the Dark Lord did return, my betrayal of names would be seen as a gift to the Dark Lord, and not as a true betrayal to him. Unlike Karkaroff I had been forced to do so, but that didn't make me feel any better about destroying lives so that I could be free.

No, not so that I could be free, so that _he_ could be _safe_. I have to be strong. I have to not dwell upon such thoughts, for his sake. Tomorrow begins a new day of nightmares that I had not even foreseen… I most go and take a bath. If anything can help me now, it is the waters of Slytherin…


	8. Chapter 8

~Thursday 19 November – My Room Early Evening

The grand scheme of things…and where I am now… I am so tired and so confused. It seems as though what happened this morning took place over a week ago. And it is only fitting, that a day such as this was entered through such a suffocating veil of nightmares.

Last night I struggled so to fall sleep. The fear of the day and the horrors of my past dominated my thoughts, pulling me from one night terror on into the next. All I could think when I awoke in between was - I should have helped her. In my dreams all those that I cared about were brought before the Dementors. Their souls were destroyed one bye one while I watched. I should have helped her.

Then I was in the Ministry, holding my wand out ready to strike. _"Severus,"_ an ominous voice from behind me roared, _"is she one of them?"_

A young woman, barely out of her teenage years stood before me. I'd seen her once. I knew her name. She was one of the people that I had given up at my trial. And suddenly, all around her appeared the rest of those whom I'd accused... Then Evan walked up beside her looking horror stricken. Wilkes walked up beside him. I lowered my wand. _"Don't!"_ The voice behind me commanded - and I obeyed with out question.

Again I aimed my wand. Tisiphone now stood in the crowd. And I knew, just I knew. A pair of figures parted, and beside her then was James. No, please _No!_ But there was no escaping it. She appeared holding the baby.

The voice demanded of me - _"Do not move Severus!"_ And suddenly the voice became a force freezing me to the spot. I could not move or speak.

From where I stood facing the crowd, Karkaroff and Avery appeared - flanking me. "Don't worry." Avery said in a perverse tone, "We're going to do it for you. All you have to do is bind them so that they cannot get away."

I woke up screaming. Thank God my room is so far from the other occupants of this castle, or my cries would have awoken everyone for sure. I sobbed in the darkness for a while. It was not yet dawn, but even if I could have done - there was no sense in my going back to sleep. I had to be awake before everyone else anyway.

I don't exactly have money, so I cannot myself subscribe to _The Daily Prophet_. I know that several subscriptions are in place for the professors. And there it is, for where else would such things be kept but in the one place that I want to avoid – The Staff Room. Fate was forcing me for it had to be done… I had to know what they'd written about me. I needed only to wait until the papers were delivered. As soon as they had, I could take one and leave before the other professors arrived.

As I slunk through the halls, not a soul seemed awake. In the silence around me, I still could not silence the thoughts. Why didn't I help her? Why didn't I go back? I could have gone back for her. I could have saved Evan. I could have saved her. I should have helped them all. Did I not condemn them myself in the first place?

When I finally reached the Staff Room it was devoid of life save for a two portraits. One frame held the image of an old Wizard. On the wall opposite that there was a thin frame surrounding a witch holding a tightly swaddled infant. I was lucky. All three occupants were passed out asleep. Across the room, several copies of _The Daily Prophet_ lay, still rolled neatly upon the table. The owls must have been there only seconds previous. I took one and was about to leave when I heard voices at the door.

God damn it.

Trapped. Of course I could not Disapparate, so like a child I looked for a place to hide. My options were few. There were curtains that did not quite reach the floor and a huge wooden wardrobe. I dashed across the floor and leapt into it, burying myself in the multitude of heavy woolen cloaks. What am I doing - I kept thinking. I felt like such an idiot. And then I heard them speak…

"Can you believe what he said about Severus?" - That had been professor Sprout's voice. How had they known? There must have been other copies, why had I not known?

"I know, it's dreadful," McGonagall's voice. "I'm sorry to see it brought up again, especially like this."

"But he was acquitted no?" A woman. I'm not sure of the voice, so it must have been O'Malley, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Yes, of course he was. Everyone knows that, but its still difficult for me to believe," Flitwick. "I talked to Albus again about it. He swears by what he said, but I just don't know. I didn't even know Severus was in The Order, did you Minerva?"

"No." McGonagall sighed, "but Albus must have had his reasons for secrecy."

"Still, one has to wonder. After all, think back to when he was a boy. There was something odd about him." Binns. _Binns_ – said that. Binns! Since when the hell does Binns know what goes on outside of his own lost world! And again this concern over how dangerous I might have been as a child… Was I really so threatening to people – living or dead?

McGonagall spoke once more, this time she sounded deeply disturbed, "To tell the truth I honestly don't know what think these days. Ever since everything happened… the way it ended so, suddenly…"

"Awful," Sprout cut in, "Awful, awful. But all I really remember was a quiet boy who worked very hard in my class." And this is why I love Hufflepuffs.

"Yes he was always a very good student," McGonagall added, and this is why I sometimes find it hard to think her a Gryffindor, "In the end, I have to trust Professor Dumbledore's judgment."

"I suppose we all will," O'Malley again.

After that they talked about the civilities of the day. But what the hell was I supposed to do? I was trapped like an animal in a wardrobe! I had no choice so I waited… with nothing to do but read what had been written about me while I knelt – hidden by coats in a wardrobe. It was all so ridiculous.

I wanted to die, but instead I quietly unrolled the paper. There on the front page was a rather unflattering photograph of Karkaroff - as if it were possible to take a flattering photograph of that kid… He snarled half manically, gritting his teeth - nearly spitting at Barty Crouch as he questioned him. I suddenly felt a lot better about my own botched appearance before the Wizengamot.

The title of the article read, "Convicted Death Eater Igor Karkaroff names Ministry Official and Others in Exchange for Freedom." At least I wasn't mentioned in the title.

I scanned the article, two paragraphs in, and I had yet to be mentioned. The article focused mainly on Karkaroff's prior conviction and the fact that he had named some Ministry official that I had not heard of. The third paragraph covered the other names he had first offered up, and how they had all turned out to be useless. Finally I came to it.

"Karkaroff did eventually manage to send a shock wave through the crowd when he named Severus Snape, the newly appointed Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore then politely reminded all those assembled that Severus Snape had already been acquitted of any such charges. It was then that Karkaroff grew desperate and named Augustus Rookwood…" There was no mention of me again.

I scanned the rest of the paper, paranoid that I would find further discussion of me but I saw nothing. I waited still hidden until I heard the other professors leave. They were headed for the Great Hall. I had to follow them. As much as I wanted to return to my room and hide there forever, I knew I couldn't. If I did not face the whole of the school as soon as possible I would seem that much more guilty.

I walked toward The Great Hall though my legs felt weak. Would that I was a puppet, then someone would control my every action… But no - I was going to have to do this on my own, because it was real. I didn't help her and this was all a part of my punishment.

Upon entering The Great Hall, I made it a point not to look out at the students. Still I could feel their eyes upon me. I could almost hear the whispers of those who had read _The Prophet_. They would of course be informing their friends. Moments later and every single student would know of it.

I took my place beside McGonagall. I did not know whether to be angry with her for what she had said, or to cling to her for dear life since she had almost defended me… even if it had only been said for the sake of Dumbledore.

She looked at me and when she spoke, and I think – at least I want to think, that there was genuine concern in her eyes and in her voice, "Are you all right Severus?"

"Yes," I said plainly, turning my head to look at my plate of food. I couldn't take it. I couldn't bear her kindness - genuine or false… I picked at my food and wondered if she had been sincere.

What had she meant? Was she asking if I as all right in regards to the article, what had been said, or was that a general statement? Was she just saying than to be polite, to deflect the awkwardness… or was she testing me? That was it, wasn't it… She didn't want to be obvious – she wanted to know my thoughts on the situation. She wanted to know if I was angry. She could not help but wonder if I am still loyal - because she doesn't trust me at all.

In my heart in knew the truth… Genuine or not - I wouldn't have it! It was as if a sudden great wave had over taken me as it all came to make sense. I _want_ them to hate me.

At the shock of it, my eyes flew open and my body became rigid. My fingers formed tight fists underneath the table as I heard my own voice in my head repeat the words as clear as day.

"_No one can know."_

And I was no longer in the Great Hall. I was in Dumbledore's Office. It was that night… I was shaking as I nearly shouted to him, _"Swear it!"_

_No!_ Not now! I shook myself awake and forced myself to focus on the moment. My fear of being assaulted by memories in front of the classroom was happening in front of the whole school. I fought hard to suppress the thoughts it but I couldn't.

I remembered. I remembered _saying it_. I stared out to the sea of students. As their faces distorted into a blur, I came to fully understand the statement. No one can know what I am doing and not simply because I can not bear for him – or anyone to know what I have done, what I felt for her or what I feel now... No one can know, because I have to do this alone. More over, I have to _be_ alone. I cannot let anyone get close to me – _ever_.

McGonagall look away. Don't look to me I am a curse, you are all right to fear me…

What pain and betrayal I felt in the Staff Room when they were discussing their distrust of me – that was just an involuntary chemical reaction. Its nothing, its not my feelings, I'm dead. I could suddenly see everything. I _must_ do this alone and I don't want anyone to help me. I don't want anyone trust me, or even to care about me.

Was I always this way? I know there was a time when I desired such things but now that it comes to it – I don't think I even know how to handle it. Affection? Even concern… Am I so unfamiliar with these things that I cannot even react properly?

Dumbledore gave me a _home_ and I grew angry with him. McGonagall looks in to my eyes and I look away. Lily defended me, and I called her a Mudblood. Oh dear God. I stared out at the students, and all I could think was, _what's wrong with me?_

No. It doesn't matter now, I told myself. None of that matters - and then suddenly a sharp pain brought me back to my senses. My hands. They were clutching the chair so tightly that they were causing me pain. It took a few moments for my fingers to uncoil. I had to stop. I had to focus but I couldn't. Was the Great Hall always so loud? Was the terrible sound of so many voices always so overpowering and I just never noticed? I could barely hear myself think as I remembered that it was time for my first class.

What was my first class? I can't even remember now as I write, and I couldn't remember it this morning either. I had to check the schedule as I do now. Right. Fifth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. I don't recall letting them into the room. I barely remember the class time itself. I spoke, they did as I said and brewed something with no major incident.

They left me in silence. I was feeling anxious as I sat waiting for the class to arrive. I felt my heart beating quickly. The sound caught me off guard and I instantly drew my wand with out thinking - pointing it at the direction of the threat, then I remembered where I was. Classroom. Students laughing at the door… Right. I teach them. I slid my wand back into my sleeve and opened the door, still not thinking.

Joan Ogden and the others entered. I nearly nodded at the recognition of it. My sixth year N.E.W.T. class. Though I was not conscious of it, my body knew to fear the threat of Joan. It was almost funny.

I read from the notes. I gave them instructions and I assume they followed them. I knew Joan Ogden was gloating. I knew Elwyn Edgecombe had said something that had caused them all to laugh but I did not hear them. I did not see them. I was staring at a desk where a blond boy now sat. That used to be her desk. That was where Lily used to sit. Where she would always be… every day, taking notes and laughing... All those times, how I dreamed… and how I never dreamed of a day when she would be gone. I took for granted her blessed presence. Just the simple act of her brushing her long dark red hair behind her ears the way she always did before she began brewing a potion… the way the light from the flames would reflect in her eyes…

Would her son look up at me with those same eyes one day? Would he ask me why he has no mother? Surely the boy would do the math. Surely he would discover I had at least gone to school with her. What will I do when he asks me if I knew her?

One of the students asked me a question. I just shook my head no at them, though I still couldn't hear a thing. There was just all this…sound. This horrible sound of all of their voices - all of them speaking at once - so shrill and so overwhelming… I could hear what seemed to be fifty conversations at once and not a single word was distinguishable from the pounding in my ears.

That boy at her desk, was mixing things in such a haphazard way, so completely unlike her… I hated him. Because he is here and she is not. But that is my fault. I should have helped her.

They left. Class ended but not before Joan gave one last smug look over her shoulder at me. Had she done or said something? I don't know. At lunch the Great Hall had grown louder. This time Sprout asked me something and I jumped at the sound of her voice. I still don't know what she said but I nodded to her and that seemed to satisfy whatever comment she had made. Water was before me at the table, right maybe if I had water I would not feel so dizzy. My hands seemed to tremble less after lunch so I think it did help.

The second set of classes took place. I remember green and red. I don't remember explosions or people laughing at me too much so it must not have been a disaster. I don't know, and I don't really care. What do I care if they know I was a Death Eater? They know nothing. What I've done, what I've seen… they could never imagine. All of this… classes, _The_ _Daily Prophet_ articles, they mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. It's funny to think I was once afraid of them.

Now I am here, in my room… and now that I have gone back over the day do I realize what a terrible state I had been in. The students must surely think me mental by now and the funny thing is, I don't care. How things have changed in just a few days. And did I not think earlier in the week that these children would be nothing compared with Potter, Black and Lupin? Are they? Either way it is a terrible thing to think when James lost his life because of me. What am I doing?

_Get it together Severus._

I have to calm myself. I have to focus, because one day that little boy is going to ask me about his mother. That - is truly my greatest fear. The most difficult thing I will ever have to face…

So. There. The waters of Slytherin will heal me enough to help me to sleep, and I will need it tonight after last night. I will manage tomorrow. This weekend I will visit the library and read the most recent back issues of _The Daily Prophet._

Oh God. All those times Dumbledore laughed at me for not knowing things. He was right to do so. I could have known… It _is _all my fault. Everything is.

~Friday 20 November – Potions Classroom Still Early Morning

The Owls.

I woke up good and numb this morning. I went to The Great Hall feeling dead inside. I sat beside McGonagall stiff as a board. My hands did not shake and I even managed to lift my head somewhat as the first few minutes passed - and then the owls came. Piles of letters were left at Dumbledore's place and several were also left at mine. For a second I was confused. With out thinking at all - I reached out to take one of them but McGonagall quickly smacked my hand away.

"Severus," she said sharply under her breath, "_Don't._ Let the Headmaster deal with this." She gave me that stern look of hers. That look that had always unmanned me as a student... I drew back my hand, frozen other wise like an animal in her gaze.

Oh dear God. They're about me. The letters – they're about _me_. And then suddenly the world slowed down. From the corner of my eye I could see it rising up slowly from the table. I turned my head to face it. And when I finally saw the thing in full, that's when the Howler exploded.

What happened next occurred so quickly – that I am still trying to make sense of it. The commotion - the fury of sound - and suddenly Dumbledore stood up his hands forcefully gripping the table as he addressed the students. He wasn't angry but there was something in his voice… And the Howler, how it screamed with the voice of a shrill, fanatical young woman… it sounded oddly familiar. My mind raced as I tried to place it while I still strained to hear what Dumbledore was saying. What the Howler said I could easily have guessed - but that voice – _his_ voice – the shock upon the faces of the students and suddenly the Howler was cut off! Blasted away – by Flitwick. _Flitwick?_ Hadn't he been the most outspoken in distrusting me yesterday?

But he'd leapt - out right _leapt_ up onto the table to cast the charm that had destroyed the Howler! The bewilderment on my face must have been so painfully obvious. I tried to control my emotions but just then Flitwick raised his head proudly and declared, "No one addresses a Hogwarts Professor in such ways – not while I have anything to say about it." The seriousness with which he'd spoken… and Dumbledore he – what he'd said.

I think I've pieced it all together now but he pushed himself back from that table, stood before the whole of the school and said, "Some of you may well be aware of accusations made against a member of this staff. I will hear no further discussion on the matter. Every member of this faculty is uniquely gifted beyond measure. I would trust each and everyone one of these professors who sit here beside me with my life. Together, they form the foundations of this institution. All of you likewise, are a part of this school. We here at Hogwarts form a family. This school is your home. Know, that forgiveness and second chances will never be denied to any member of the Hogwarts family. It does not matter where you go, or who you become in life, for this school and all those who have passed through its halls, will always be there to support you. I simply ask now that you not deny others the same consideration."

No one spoke after that. How could we? What does one say in the face of such a profound statement? I couldn't move. I didn't even know where to look – so I just stared at him. Everyone else was. And he… as only he could, just sat back down, looked out to the stunned crowd - and made some joke about the Chudley Cannons.

_What?_ But it had worked. Everyone was put instantly at ease. The students began to laugh and within a few moments everything had gone back to normal – as if nothing out of the ordinary had even happened. How does he do these things?

I still stared dumbfounded up at him. I hadn't returned to normal because Chudley Cannons Jokes don't work on me. Not to mention the fact that there was still a massive pile of letters just sitting there before me - and just as I was wondering what the hell to do with the mess, someone cast a hover charm. O'Malley. She swept them off the table and banished them to a corner of the room behind the staff table.

What the hell had just _happened_?

I was desperate. I turned to McGonagall. She smiled at me and raised her eyebrow in the cheeky manner of hers. She almost smiled – but then she turned serious once more, "Don't let it bother you Severus," she told me, "This is a difficult time for everyone. It's going to be like this for a while. I am afraid all the fear, suspicion and uncertainty will linger for some time. No one really knows yet what to make of it all. The smoke hasn't quite cleared… but clear it will, and when it does, you'll see things, eventually will be all right." Then she smiled at me reassuringly.

At first I wasn't sure what to think. To a certain extent, I believed her, and this did make me feel somewhat better… Things _would _eventually go back to normal - for most people. To those who had only been living in fear, those who had not lost loved ones - for them there will be hope.

But what of all the others? What about the families torn apart by death or imprisonment? Will things ever be all right for them? I still can't explain it, but even as I feared for those who'd experienced such devastating loss, I couldn't' help but feel such a powerful surge of hope. Why did I feel such a thing? The other professors, they seemed almost to defend me. Why?

I suppose, after all that's happened they felt it would be best if we all stood together. Is that what we in the Wizarding World have to do no? Should we choose to forgive and to believe in all those around us? Do we trust to hope? I want to think it so. After all, wasn't that what I saw in the moon that night? Hope? I may never be in a position to trust, but the others…

So is Minerva right then? Will most people eventually be all right? I have no idea what to think.

I must stop writing now. I must put my journal away because it is now nearly nine and I have to teach. Oh dear God, how will the students behave after what just happened?


	9. Chapter 9

~Friday 20 November – My Room Late Evening

Home. I'm back in my room, safe in Slytherin. The first week is finally over and for two whole days not a soul will be able to touch me. No overwhelming sound of student voices. No one watching me… no performance in front of the classroom - I am free. I need only appear when I have to eat with them.

Given the difficult way in which this week began, I could never have imagined it would end in such a way. I still can't believe what happened this morning in The Great Hall. Even my classes today were, for the most part - peaceful and uneventful.

My morning class was Gryfindors and Slytherins. First years. They were fairly well behaved... The Slytherins did not even glare at me, though now that I think about it - they were likely all terrified of me. Whatever the reason, they got through the lesson with only two melted cauldrons. I gave them instructions and they worked in relative quiet for most of the class.

Towards the end of the class period, there were a few fights, but they seemed to work things out on their own rather quickly. Thankfully I did not need to intervene. While they were working, I sat at my desk and tried to gather my thoughts. As far as Karkaroff's accusations were concerned, I knew I had not heard the end of it. There would still be mutterings over it for some time, but after the things Dumbledore said I knew I would have little to worry about in the long run.

As I went out to the class to check on the results of their Boil-Cure Potions, none of the students asked any questions pertaining to my past. I didn't really expect them to. At eleven years old, I rather imagine they are too frightened of me to do so. The seventh year N.E.W.T. students who would soon replace them however, that would be another story. I was nervous when I let them into the room, but in some way I felt the rest of the staff behind me. I felt almost protected

Matilda Weston sat in the front of the room with her retinue. She smiled victoriously as she glared at me. I have allies too, I kept telling myself. I tried my best not to let her get to me, but as the class drew on, I felt my courage began to fail. And just as it did, a snarky, brutish voice shook the room, "So, are you going to appear before the Ministry now?"

I whipped my head around violently as I turned in full to face Albert Runcorn. I shot him a look far darker than any Matilda had given me. "No." I said to him curtly. Then I turned and walked away. There was laughter after he spoke of course, but the class eventually fell silent after our exchange.

I left them to work on the Draught of Living Death and returned to my desk. From behind the protection the piece of furniture provided me, I glanced out over the room taking in faces and names that I knew. Weston, Runcorn, Howard, Harden… these families the students all hail from… How strange that there is not one member of the Black family. There aren't even close ties to the clan. They may all be Pure-bloods, but most of the greater families are not represented in Hogwarts at this time. In that respect I am quite lucky – for if the true families of power had any influence over this place right now I rather imagine I would be in trouble. If _they_ had wanted me undone they could easily have accomplished this act already. Weston might very well have it in her, in particular with the support of her many followers, but I realized as I stared down at her from my desk, that she is going to have to work very hard to do so.

As I sat for lunch in the Great Hall, I thought a lot about the great families. At one time the Blacks would have been the greatest of these families, but I suppose now that power has shifted. The Rosiers, Malfoys, Lestranges and Avery family would be the families of power now. They may not have been sent to Azkaban, but I suppose that I should take some comfort in the fact that Dumbledore and The Ministry are watching them. Of course I don't think this will make much difference. They will still do terrible things and get away with it, but like Matilda, such acts will be much more difficult for them to accomplish. They will have no protection from The Dark Lord. They will have to work in secret. Plans will take longer and require more effort. Perhaps this might even deter an act or two.

I was feeling far better than I had all week when the time came to face my final class. Second year Slytherins and Gryfindors. Again the young were too timid to speak up and ask me what I had done. The only real incident occurred when a Gryffindor girl did not correctly follow the instructions for the Wiggenweld Potion. Her Caldron exploded sending bright purple fluid everywhere. She offered to stay after class to help clean it up, but I sent the girl on her way. It was an accident after all. Anyone could have mistaken Moon Dew Drops for Boom Berry Juice … I suppose.

I finished cleaning the mess and felt my body begin to give way. I was so weary from it all. I longed for a bath and my bed. Then I remembered, it wasn't over – I still had to meet with Dumbledore.

Had it been any other day I would have been furious. But how could I be cross with him for keeping me from my room after he had defended me so passionately earlier this morning? I was almost grateful then, for a chance to speak with him.

I passed the gargoyle, climbed the stairs and stepped onto the landing. My fingers reached for the doorknob but the instant I felt the cold metal, I froze. All of the memories from our former meetings came to me.

Wait.

He hadn't said those things for my sake – he meant only to protect the school. He did not mean what he said – had he? Trust me with his life? The others yes – but me?

He lied. Why had I not seen it? This was all part of the act. Just as I pretend to be a professor, he pretended to defend me. He lied.

They all had. He had either told them to do that, or they did so on their own due to some code under which professors protect each other for the sake of appearance… they never meant to protect me, and neither did he.

I knocked on the door. He opened it with out saying a word. I did my best not to look at him, "Sir, I came as you asked," I said.

"Come in Severus," he said. His mood was difficult go gauge. I never really can tell what he's thinking, but I can generally get a sense of how frustrating he will be in conversation.

I stood before his desk, as usual preferring to stand rather than sit. I realize now that do this intentionally to hasten the process. "What is it you wanted to discuss with me?" I asked with out any emotion. This was not from suppression, but from sheer exhaustion.

"Severus," he was smiling as he said it, and then I knew I was in trouble. "I thought we might discuss your first week of teaching." Oh no.

"All right," I said obediently. This was not meant to be a friendly chat. He'd given me an order. He wanted me to report to him on my progress. I should have seen it earlier.

"How was your first week?" he asked this with out taking his piercing gaze from me.

I stared back at him. I had no idea what to say. I quickly realized that there was a correct answer to this question, only I couldn't think of it. I'm not supposed to answer this truthfully am I? He _wants_ me to answer him in a certain way. This is still part of the lie is it not? "I managed," I said quietly.

He nodded. I'm not sure if that was the correct way to answer, but I knew it hadn't been entirely wrong either. "And how do you find the students?"

Shit. He does want the truth - or why else would he ask me such a thing? And how exactly do I answer _that_ question? I suddenly felt like I was on trial again. "They don't seem much different from when I was in school," I lied.

Then he did it. He lowered his head and looked over his spectacles at me, giving me _that_ look. "Is that so?" he said, because he knows.

"Yes." I said firmly as I looked him straight in the eye and lied again.

But he continued to stare me down, boring into me with out even bothering to use Legilimens. "Is there anything you want to tell me Severus?"

"No," I lied, blocking him out as best I could with out resorting to Occlumens.

He picked up his head but did not take his eyes from me. "Very well," he said.

He knows. Fine. So he knows. That does not surprise me at all. What I don't understand is why he _cares_ about the problems I have with the students. I told him I wasn't ready. I told him I didn't want to do this, and yet he made me do it anyway. Why would he care to know how I am managing? Right. He doesn't care – this is all an act. But why ask? Was doing this to torment me? Was I to stand there and bemoan my horrible position? Was I meant to tell him how they had hurt me? Maybe that was the answer. This was all part of my punishment. He wants me to break just as they do. Just like my father, just like Potter and even Crouch – the only way out is to give up and cry.

I refused to give him the satisfaction. "Is that all that you had wanted to talk to me about?"

"No, it isn't," he said smiling widely. "Did you have a chance to read today's issue of _The Daily Prophet_?" Damn it. I forgot. I made myself so numb this morning that I completely forgot to do it! Two days and already I've slipped up on my promise to myself. _Damn it!_

"No Headmaster. I'm afraid I haven't had a chance yet," I lied to him again.

"Well I thought you would be happy to learn that _The Prophet_ is almost entirely focused on the accusations of Augustus Rookwood, and that there is almost no mention of you." He said, still smiling devilishly.

Why would he think that? Why would it make me happy to learn that someone else's life is about to be ruined? "Is he even guilty sir?"

"Unfortunately, it looks that way," he sighed, "You were only mentioned once, and you are described as being a help to The Ministry. Does that please you?"

"You told them to write that," I said with no hesitation.

He sighed, "No Severus, while I did publicly state that yesterday, _The Prophet _wrote those words in the article entirely on their own with no prompting from me."

He stared at me waiting for a response, but I had none to give. I blinked several times. I didn't have it in me to do more than that.

"I thought you might also like to know…" he hesitated. All I remembered thinking was - this dramatic pause of his had better be worth it. This was a joke of course because his theatrics are never worth it – except for this one time, "…the article about Rookwood that mentioned you was relegated to the back of the paper. The front cover is devoted to the news that The Ministry has apprehended Nereus Avery."

My heart actually skipped. "Are you serious?"

"Yes Severus. Both he and his father had been suspected Death Eaters for a very long time. Joseph Avery, as you well know was among Voldemort's very first followers. They caught him a few weeks ago. Unfortunately he like many of the others made a deal and was set free. But Nereus had far more evidence mounted against him when he was caught today."

"So there is hope?" I asked. And there it is again. Hope. Even as I said it I knew the bastard would be set free, but still there existed the slim chance that he would be punished for all he had done.

Dumbledore looked down at me smiling, "Severus, there is always hope." He knows.

"Have they set a date for his trial?" I asked.

"They have. It will be held on Tuesday, the first of December." He said. And as he said it, I remembered. _Mulciber._ Both Avery _and_ Mulciber had been caught? This was far too good to be true. Had they planned it? Their trials would be a week apart perhaps this could mean they were up to something.

I almost mentioned this to Dumbledore, but I couldn't. I needed to believe, if only for a few days that justice had a chance to succeed. I knew how short lived that time period would be. But for the moment, the both of them were in Ministry custody, unable to coerce or torture anyone. It was enough.

"You will be there?" I persisted, "At both his trial and Mulciber's?"

"I will, though I must warn you, there will be little I can do. Both of their families, particularly the Averys unfortunately have a great deal of influence over the Wizarding World." Dumbledore said, though I did not need to be reminded of this.

I said nothing for a while. I wanted to leave. I wanted to process all the things that he had said. "Sir, may I be excused now."

"Of course you may. And Severus, my door is always open… if there is anything you should ever want to tell me," he said this, meaning I was free, but that in truth - I really wasn't. He still wants me to admit how horrific my teaching experience has been when he already knows.

Why? This is all an _act_. The students are not even my true concern. In that moment, I wanted only to impress upon him just how important it was to make sure that both Avery and Mulciber were sent to Azkaban forever. But as usual, I said nothing at all and left the room.

Now I am back in my room. This day… that I thought for sure would kill me. Instead the professors – and now even _The Prophet -_ have all defended me. And though it was all just a part of the plan, I am brought to some sense of peace by it. To learn that Avery will stand trial along with Mulciber is more than I could ever have asked…

Nereus Avery… the witty boy with a devious sense of humor - who made me laugh that first night in the Common Room just after we had been sorted. That aggressive, power hungry manipulative tyrant, with no fuse who attacked even his closest friends and family when they stood in the way of his malicious plans. It makes me sick to remember now, how he used to make me laugh. It makes me sick to think back on how I wanted to follow him… or how I felt such undying gratitude when he invited me to join them - how he put up with me, despite my poor upbringing and abhorrent blood status.

He turned on all of us – except for Mulciber of course because he was willing to do what ever Avery told him to do. So good they were together… Avery liked to see people suffer, and Mulciber loved to be the one to do it. Evan would _neve_r do such things. Wilkes might have lied to protect them, but in the end - I knew he would never be complicit in any of their actual plans. And Tisiphone – what did she ever do? She wasn't even a part of all that. All she ever wanted to do was have sex and snog me.

…And Avery _loathed_ her for it. _"Willful"_ he called her. She was his cousin and yet he was so brutal to her, perhaps more so to her than he was to any one else. As it is with all things, I did not see this until it was too late. But when I recall now what he did to her in the final weeks of school, I shutter to think on what he did to the Muggles.

Lily was right - about everything. Oh dear God why didn't I listen to her when she tried to warn me! I thought it was all a joke, the things he and Mulciber used to say and do… Or maybe I wanted to think that. Maybe I knew all along but I was too blinded by my own desperation to belong to see the truth for what it was. I don't know. I just know how much it hurt when they _left_ us. How their fathers so happily welcomed them into the Inner Circle of Death Eaters. We all joined together, hadn't we all wanted to do this _together?_

At first I felt left out, because I used to look up to Lucius and Rodolphus - but I couldn't - we couldn't... For this they saw Evan, Wilkes, Tisiphone and myself as weak and so forced us to partake in the work of petty crimes and espionage as a way to punish us… Evan's own father - How he favored Avery - how he… I can't go on. I feel too sick.

Tomorrow I will go to the library to read up on old articles in _The Daily Prophet_. And when their trials come to pass, I will be watching, waiting with baited breath.

~Saturday 21 November – My Room Morning

I just woke up, tangled up in my sheets half fallen off my bed… After my anger last night I should not be surprised by the amount of nightmares that kept me from sleeping soundly. They weren't all bad. Some were memories, drunken nights around the fire when we'd been left in peace. Wilkes and Evan singing Jefferson Airplane while she kissed my neck singing softly herself…

"_Remember, what the dormouse said,_

_Feed your head, feed your head…"_

Right. I need to be in the library.

~Saturday 21 November – My Room Late Evening

Breakfast was peaceful enough, no one brought up the trials, or any of the other recent events. But I've realized that I can rely on the teaching staff to remain quiet about such things. In fact, most people avoid it I am noticing - as if to mention such things are as frightful as saying the name of The Dark Lord himself. And why would anyone want to mention such things? Saying it recalls it from memory, saying it makes it real.

I told myself I could no longer avoid such things, so I left The Great Hall as quickly as I could and headed straight for the library. I was lucky, hardly any students were there to study today, and those who study on a Saturday are the least likely to look at me or laugh.

So in solitude I poured over old copies of _The Prophet_, although I was extremely careful not to read certain issues that I knew would be an opening of Pandora's Box. I started on the forth of November, the day of my trail. That was after all the day that I came back into this world. Though my trial occurred on the forth, there was no mention of me in either the morning or evening edition.

The fifth of November was another story. Beginning on the cover page was long article discussing those who were tried on the previous day. Thankfully there was no mention of me on the first page…. In all Seventeen people including myself were called in to stand before the Wizengamot on suspicions of having been Death Eaters. Most of the article focused on a witch whom I'd never met. She'd gone of her head and tried to attack an Auror. Not too surprisingly she was sent to Azkaban. The article then went on to list details from the rest of the trials in order of appearance. There was no mention of me until a third of the way through…

"Also tried today was 21 year old Severus Snape who was acquitted after Albus Dumbledore gave evidence in support of the young man. A former student of Hogwarts, Severus Snape reportedly joined the Death Eaters near the end of his last term. He has since repented and has been cooperating with Albus Dumbledore and Ministry Officials to help apprehend those loyal to You Know Who."

That was the end of it. The rest of the article went on to discuss the four hearings that had occurred after mine. _The Evening Prophet_ made no further mention of me. Most of that issue as usual, covered lighter topics and gossip. One article focused on trials set to occur for the remainder of the week.

I still can't believe the amount of people called in for questioning. Surely most of them had nothing to do with the Death Eaters… hadn't they? God what was I a part of? I feel as though the further I get from past, the more I come to see how terrible it all was. How could I have been so naïve to have believed in such a thing? How could I have been so selfish not to see beyond my own suffering in the early years when I might have still had a chance? Why did I not run - because they would have killed my parents and I with them… because I had no one to run to - but mostly, because I am a coward. Christ, what have I done?

Though disgusted with myself and my Sin, I continued to read. In most of the trials that had been held these past few days - it seems that many are being released in spite of Crouch's obstinate demeanor. Perhaps they made deals, I don't know. But for all those who were set free, plenty of other Witches and Wizards - including some that I know that I myself named, were sent to Azkaban. It's absolutely horrifying to see the guilty go free while those who were barely accomplices have their lives stolen from them. They will suffer a fate worse than death and yet I am here…

The next eight days worth of reading saw only more of the same. Countless articles devoted to the steady stream of trials... From the way in which these trails are covered with such relish from those reporting, I get the sick sense the Wizarding World has come to see this as some form of Blood Sport. And while I cannot say that I blame them, I find it appalling to think that "the good" side could actually be so blood thirsty. Well why wouldn't they be? They are all under the influence of Crouch… and again, who wouldn't want revenge after all that my side has done to them?

On the 13th of November I found the next mention of my name. This time it was an entire article and a photograph. Thankfully, the photograph was small and from my days in school. I looked dreadful, but not nearly as bad as I do now… The article itself may have been short - located on the second page and not the front, but it was still a frightful thing to have to see my image and name printed so boldly upon the page.

"Severus Snape is appointed Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House.

Severus Snape has replaced Horace Slughorn as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At only 21 years of age, he is one of the youngest professors in recent history. Not since the year of 1759 when, Devon Noctem taught Astronomy at the age of 19, has someone so young joined the teaching staff at the school. The youngest Head of Slytherin House was Epona Steamwick, who took the position at age of 20 back in 1694. Albus Dumbledore explained the appointment saying, 'Severus was an exemplary student, and was one of the brightest minds to have ever studied Potions.'

While he did indeed receive nine O.W.L.S. and nine N.E.W.T.S. it is believed his appointment was made in haste after the sudden retirement of Horace Slughorn. At this time, there is no explanation for Professor Slughorn's unexpected departure."

There was no mention at all of my having been a Death Eater – no mention of my trial either. Dumbledore's doing, of that I am absolutely certain. Perhaps even Crouch himself for all I know. He wouldn't want me to appear guilty after he had set me free. It wouldn't look good for him when he is supposed to be so unyielding towards anyone associated with The Dark Lord.

Finally I came to the last article I was looking for. Mulciber's capture. There was no information in the article that I had not already learned from talking with Dumbledore. The only thing new to me was a photograph. I cannot get over how different he looked from the last time I saw him…. He was always so tall and so muscular, but he seems to have become bigger… if that is at all possible. His hair was longer and far more ragged, and on top of that, he hadn't shaven in a few days. All of this made him seem more menacing than ever.

As much as he looked like a horrible beast of a man - starring at the photograph, I suddenly saw the boy I met when I had first come to Hogwarts. I remember it so well… That night – just before the Prefects gave me my room assignment. How I watched them in silence feeling so isolated and cut off with out her…

William was holding Evan upside down by his ankles while everyone laughed. Evan was trying to disprove some silly superstition over a song that cannot be sung upside down. Since Mulciber was so strong he offered to help. Except, he kept counting – he kept trying to confuse Evan as he sang the song - not that he needed to do this... Evan kept repeating lines, getting words wrong… several times he even snorted from laughing so hard. Even the Prefects couldn't help laughing. Finally Mulciber brought Evan over to a sofa, "Right mate," he said as he lowered Evan onto the thing, "This is for your own good. You try again in the morning after the blood's drained from your head!" He ruffled up Evan's ashy brown hair and returned to the place where the rest of us were all lined up. I remember the pangs of longing I felt at wanting to be friends with them.

I felt a surge of sorrow well up inside me in the present as I looked at the photograph and saw his hands bound by heavy metal shackles. Then I saw in my mind that Muggle girl. Any sympathy for him was instantly erased. I felt only anger towards a man who had harmed so many. One more day. One more day - then Monday will come and with it his trial. Then it will be done.

I should have read the article on Avery, but I knew anymore of it and I would crack. I must be careful not to allow myself to become too upset. I promised myself this. I remembered and I stopped myself from continuing - which I would certainly have done in the past to disastrous results. Furthermore, I knew that after such a trying experience, that the best thing for me to do would be to take a walk and clear my head. So I did that - I walked about the grounds in what remained of the sunlight and then returned to the school.

But on the way back to my room just now - the strangest thing happened. A young Slytherin girl came running up to me in the hallway. She must have been a first year, second at most... She must have been waiting for me.

"Professor! Professor!" She cried out to me as I passed. She sounded absolutely terrified.

I looked down at her, half surprised at how she had spoken, and half surprised by how much shorter she was than I, "What is it?"

"You can stop it, can't you?" her voice cracked as if she was about to cry.

Even I was getting upset, "Stop what? What's going on?"

"The _monster_," she said. She seemed shocked by the fact that I did not already know this. "They say she has woken up now that Slughorn has left. They say she wakes up every time there is a new Head of House and that every time she does, she has _killed_ students."

I could have killed whatever Gryffindor told her such an awful exaggeration of that stupid old fairy tale. "That's just a rumor," I calmly explained to her, "I don't know who told you that story but…" I hesitated, for I finally realized how foolish I had been. No Gryffindor is that clever. This must be part of Matilda's plan. I looked down the hall. Surely enough four other Slytherins students stood waiting. Two boys and two other girls, first years it seemed – and all of them too terrified to approach me.

"Did the older student's tell you this?" I said addressing all of them. Not one of them moved or even spoke. I knelt down to the girl so that we would be at eye level. I thought maybe then I wouldn't scare her as much. Instead she took two steps back from me. I wanted to drop my head and back up too. It was awful. The first years are frightened of me - because they know… I am a monster too.

I bit my lip and tried to remain strong. I couldn't show fear in their presence or they would only be more afraid themselves. "There is no monster," I said to her. I was speaking softly, and yet still she took another step back.

"That's what they said you would say," she looked me straight in the eye as she said this. "How can you stop her if you don't even believe?"

"There is no monster," I said to her again speaking as softly as I could. I did my best not to sound anything like all the horrible people who scolded me when I was small… "I was told the same thing when I was your age. Everyone is. The story of Slytherin's Monster is just a mean trick used by the older students to scare people. Did a Slytherin tell you this?"

She only shook her head - not to say no… It was her way of telling me she had given up on me. She backed away then and returned to the others. They took her into the circle, wrapping their arms around her. I heard them whisper in frightened voices as they hurried away from me down the hall. I waited for a moment. I watched them leave and when the hall had fallen completely silent, I entered my room.

Of course I do not know for sure if it was Matilda - or Joan, or Elwyn, or anyone one of their many cohorts… but in my heart I am almost certain of it. How strange though, for them to turn on their own kind… I don't know… Pranks between students are the least of my concerns. I need to take a bath and resign myself to the fact that tomorrow I must deal with three more issues of The _Daily Prophet_… not to mention the fact that I will soon face another week of classes.

~Sunday 22 November – My Room Very Late

There is only one thing to write about. Because it is the only thing anyone can think about. It is all there is to talk about, if anyone is brave enough to talk to speak more than a few sentences on the matter. Everyone is otherwise silent. I don't think the castle has ever been so quiet when it has been so full of people. It is eerie, and unsettling in a way that only adds to the terrible feeling of foreboding.

The List. That is what everyone is calling it. _The Prophet_ was first to announce it this morning. Everything it now seems, revolves around the horrors printed in _The Daily Prophet_… and there is no escaping it.

Later this week, The Ministry will release a final, definitive list of all those who were killed, injured, gone missing, or have been imprisoned because of The War. The List will be published in paper for all to see.

Everyone - all the names indelibly in once place. Those whose fates are still unknown will be officially declared dead or missing. And all those that we already know, of course - will be there too…

While this will undoubtedly reopen wounds for everyone, the general consensus is that The Ministry is doing this now, as the trials are coming to an end, as a way to give closure to The Wizarding World. Those lost will be recognized and honored once and for all. This List, they say - will mark the end of one era, and herald the start of a new one. This is The Ministry telling us that the time to mourn is nearing its end, and that it is now time to begin rebuilding what remains of our world.

I feel so many things, that I cannot even begin to articulate what I feel into words. I spent most of the day wandering alone in the forest. I don't feel any better. All I know is that I must face another week of teaching, and that I am completely unprepared to do so. The next day will be spent in dread. The whole school will be unable to focus, and once the thing has been brought into light…

This will be a far more difficult week than the one that just passed.

This time last week I was afraid for myself. Once again I was naïve and lost in my own thoughts. I never once considered the world outside of this room or The Potions Classroom. Now everyone is afraid. Everyone lost something in The War. Even if it was not a loved one or a friend, we all lost something that we can never replace…

There really is no reason to even try to settle one's self at the moment…. Nothing to do now but wait for The List...


	10. Chapter 10

~Monday 23 November – My Room Very, very late…Starless sky

It was still dark when I woke up. I was having some strange dream though I'd forgotten most of it. I only recalled the screams as I came into consciousness. It won't be today. That was the first thing that ran through me head. It won't be today that The List is released. Still, today I have the added anxiety of Mulciber's trial to consider.

My hands were trembling worse than ever this morning. It took that much longer to button my coat. I cut myself twice while shaving. I even dropped the comb several times as I dragged it through my hair. I don't want to see their names in print. The ink is the stain, the blood upon my hands and the marks upon my arm that can never be erased.

I am fairly certain I wasn't breathing when I entered The Great Hall, and I wasn't alone in this... I could sense it the moment I crossed the threshold. For once, we were all united in the same terror. Every dropped fork clattering upon porcelain sent shockwaves through the room. We all literally jumped at every sound - but he's gone. The Dark Lord is gone, so why are we all still afraid?

Because we can never be free of him. What he has done will remain with us forever.

No one was eating. We were all going through the motions. Several times I know I heard her begin to weep before she caught herself. In all my days of sitting in class under the power of that stoic, unyielding woman - I could never have imagined that I would sit beside Minerva McGonagall as she cried. Who had she lost? How many? Friends, colleges, countless former students… I wanted to cry, and for once it had nothing to do with my own sorrow. I forced my face to remain still. One sigh, one dropped glance and I would have lost it completely - dissolving into sobs and hysterics in front of everyone. Still, I knew I was not alone in this…

I was grateful to only have the two classes today and no N.E.W.T. students to face. I paced about the room for a few moments before the class began. I don't know what I was looking for, but I felt I had to check the classroom before the students arrived. I had to make sure the space was safe… but from what, I'm not certain. I repeated this before my afternoon class as well.

All of the students were too distracted. I thought to give them work. I thought that perhaps the concentration required to brew Potions would help to take their minds from their troubles - as it had done for me so often when I was a student. I thought of this, and yet I did not have the heart to burden them with work. For all I know, some of them have lost parents or family members. I don't know the exact odds, but easily there could be a student in each class who has suffered a loss. Should they really be made to consider the difference between knotgrass and fluxweed at a time when they will be forced to see the names of their deceased loved ones in print?

I told each of my classes that they were free to read or study whatever subject they desired. Not one of them used this as an opportunity to misbehave. They all sat and read quietly. Some whispered to one another, but one could easily discern the nature of their hushed discussions and knew they were not to be disturbed. In retrospect, perhaps I should have permitted some of them to go out in the hallway to talk - but that might have been too much freedom.

Dinner was as painful as breakfast and lunch had been. I was in such a state, that I'd completely forgotten when Dumbledore passed a note to me – William!

I opened the thing - knowing it pertained to Mulciber and his trial – after all Dumbledore had been absent from lunch again... Of course - he was at The Ministry – at the trial! I'd hoped for an answer to be concealed in the folded piece of parchment. What was I thinking? An answer so simply given by Dumbledore? I really must be confused today.

The note only said to meet him in his office at eight. Oh let it be the trial and nothing more I thought. I couldn't have managed anything else. I returned to my room to pass the time after dinner. Though I tried not to think on it, but my mind raced. What else could possibly have happened if this is not in connection to the trial? I vomited twice I was so sick over it. What I threw up I have no idea for I swear I have not eaten in days, and so of course it burned all the more painfully when I did… sick. What Dumbledore? What…

Finally it was nearly eight, I raced up the stairs to his office and knocked on the door, completely disregarding the fact that I was several minutes early.

I didn't even wait for an invitation when he opened the door - I marched straight in. "What happened Dumbledore?"

"Calm down Severus. I wanted only to tell you the outcome of the trial in private." An answer. An answer so swiftly given - and he was being genuinely kind.

I actually stopped and tried to calm myself as he had requested. "Sir?"

"Please, sit down." He guided me to the chair and I did not argue – neither with him or myself and sat down as he told me.

He had barely taken a seat himself when he said it. "He was convicted."

I was staring at him. Perhaps I was still waiting for an answer, for it had not registered. "Convicted?"

"Yes," he began, "Both his father and Evan Rosier's father made a great effort to secure his release but there was far too much evidence against him. William Mulciber has been sentenced to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban."

My heart sank. I felt guilty - for suddenly I saw, that this was not the death of a man who tortured and killed, this was to be the final end of a boy who might not have turned out to be such a monster. Perhaps under another set of circumstances he would have been a different person. Will I feel the same way when Avery is tried, set free or imprisoned? Does it matter where they will be placed on The List? Does any of it matter? No… he is simply another life missing. One more horrific end...

But justice had been carried out. That's what I had so desperately wanted. Like Crouch, I sought blood and I finally had it. I felt no comfort. In that respect, I suppose I am not like Crouch. I know he does not feel what I feel for the dead, the missing, the innocent or even the guilty. The Dark Lord ruined us all. Justice is done, but it cannot undo the crimes we have committed against one another. The only good that comes from this is the fact that no further lives will be lost at the hands of William Mulciber. I hope the Dementors do their work quickly. I do hope it will be quick…

"Severus, are you alright?" a voice called to me from a great distance. Dumbledore. Right.

I didn't care that he'd seen me so lost. At this point… "Sir is there anything else we need to discuss."

"That depends upon you," he said.

"With all due respect, I would rather leave now." I told him.

He made no objections. "As you wish," he told me. At that, I got up and left.

What is going on? I was so openly lost in my thoughts and did not care? He was giving me answers with no theatrical display? He was giving me a chance to ask further questions and I myself chose to return to my room? I do not understand this day.

But now the day is over. Thank Christ. Now that it is - now that I have survived a day under the threat of The List, I rather hope that it happens tomorrow. As much as I dread it with all my heart and soul, I think it worse to live with the dread. Lets just have it and be done.

~Tuesday 24 November – My Room After Midnight for all I know its Wednesday

I feel completely flat and emotionless. I feel brittle and weak, and it occurs to me to be the best way to feel at the current time. I haven't the strength to do anything terrible, so I am not at risk for self-harm. I have cried myself passed the point of crying. I have run through my hysteria and I am now run dry of emotions.

My hand shakes as I write, but that is from fatigue and not nerves - for there is nothing more to fear.

Everyone just, knew when we woke up. We didn't express this to one another. We did not need to. I entered the Great Hall. Never before in the history of the school was the mood so grim in Hogwarts. And while I am sure that this place knew great sorrow in my absence as lives were lost to the war, never before would the experience be shared by so many. And I know that on That day – when… it happened - that even as everyone rejoiced at the end of it all, that there was still the gnawing feeling of what was to come. But now the dust has finally settled, and now we must face all that it was that we lost…

The Final Official Death Toll.

That was the headline. And you knew right away upon seeing the thing that it would be worse than we'd imagined, because the paper was twice as thick as it normally was.

The Owls came one by one fluttering in through the windows. The shrieks of fear and the cries of pain erupted instantly – nearly drowning out the sound of over a hundred wings beating thunderously throughout the hall. Such a thing was unprecedented, but this was no ordinary delivery of the morning paper.

We had been told that it would be this way. The issue would be delivered at the expense of the Ministry to every single magical citizen. We knew, but nothing could have prepared us. The scores of owls literally and metaphorically formed a terrible dark cloud over The Great Hall, completely obscuring the already tumultuous looking sky above. The firebomb that followed… for the frightful sound that was produced as the heavy volumes that were dropped relentlessly onto the tables could only be compared with the explosion of Muggle bombs - it was unbearable. No one was ready for it. For such an occurrence to herald the arrival of that dreaded thing was beyond cruel, and yet how else could they have done it?

The papers all sat unopened for several minutes, or so it seemed, since time stood completely still after the thundercloud of owls dissolved and left the hall. Several students were already crying. Three girls sitting closest to me grabbed one another and began to sob. Their cries pierced my heart and yet I myself did not feel any sadness of my own. I was still in shock, still staring at the space where the owls had been.

I finally looked down at it. The size of it… That it had taken that many pages to list – and that was it. I chocked up – I was about to cry. Tears were filling my eyes and there was nothing for it. Were it any other day, any other time – I would have fled the room long before I could even have reacted – but what difference did it make when the entire castle had broken into open mourning? For once I was sure no one was looking at me -

Just as I felt my emotions would get the better of me - something with an iron will seized me from within and took l control over my thoughts and actions. That part of me, which will not give in - which locks up my heart and turns my exterior to stone so that no one can get to me – it is stronger than I realize. I swiftly wiped the tears from my face with my sleeve and refocused my gaze and my thoughts to the empty space above the students.

No one can know.

That thing before me must wait. I have a class to teach. Class…. And then everything spun out of control.

Dumbledore stood up. Time seemed to be moving even slower than it had just minutes before. I was still in deep a trance. I saw only the fuzzy outline of my surroundings. Sound became as indistinct as if I had cast Muffliato on myself. Any normal person would have been afraid, but I now know this is my body's defense against a potentially devastating emotional threat. It's how I responded to my trial - it's how I was all that time in his office…

Dumbledore? What was he saying? I was somewhere else. His words weren't making any sense. And suddenly - though I had not heard him speak at all, I knew what it was that he had said.

Classes were cancelled for the day.

Right. I looked at him, squinted with one eye like I used to do when I was drunk in my seventh year trying to read the number on a dorm room that I already knew was mine but, "Donovan, let me in…"

Donovan is gone Severus. Dumbledore is talking come back to the present and pay attention!

"You will all spend this day in your respective houses where you can mourn in your own way." He was saying, "Please be supportive of one another, and above all else, remember that you are not alone. Madame Pomfrey and the rest of the staff will be on hand to assist anyone who needs help. I would now ask for the Prefects and Heads of Houses to calmly escort their students to the dorms."

Me. Me, I am Head of House - I have to lead them. Lead them? Just as I was about to think it and fear for myself, I realized that the same horror must have been running through their minds as well. Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall, who will lead us?

And what of the Prefects? The Prefects! Andre - Elisa - I have to be strong for their sake! The girl and the other first years that visited me this past Saturday... I must remain still and calm for them.

I had no idea what the other Prefects would do, but I felt I had support in Andre and Elisa. It was them that I looked for first through the crowd. Everything was still moving slowly - my hearing and sight were still slightly obscured, but saw them. When I reached the pair of Prefects they were already lining up rows of weeping students. "Professor!" Andre called out to me.

"Yes, I'm here." I responded sleepily.

"I think it would be best if we each split up and took the classes back one year at a time." He said firmly above the din. Already I could see Matilda shooting us a dirty look from across the way. She would hold to that, at a time like this?

And, what did he mean by "spilt up"? Right. Six prefects and I - the Head of House, that makes seven. One of us for each year... "Very well," I said, hopefully hiding how lost I was. "You take the first years back then?"

He looked at me as if he were puzzled by my response. No, not by my response - but at how long it had taken me to respond. He knew. He knew I was lost. "Great idea!" he said nearly shouting over the din as he suddenly smiled. He was covering for me. "I'll take them, Professor you follow with second year, Elisa third, Elwyn forth, Joan fifth, Albert sixth and Mantilla - take the seventh."

Elisa nodded obediently, but the others I could tell were not fooled. They scowled at us, resenting me for my failure, and Andre for having given the order. Why now? These children have lost their parents. I looked ahead to Andre. He was carrying a girl who seemed far beyond any consolation. Halfway to the dungeon I saw him take another girl under his free arm to hold her up as best he could. I remembered wondering if I should help him – or if there were others who needed to be carried. No! I had such a visceral reaction the instant the thought had crossed me mind.

Don't touch them.

What was I doing! How could I guide these poor children? How could I even consider the act of carrying one of them when I might very well have played a part in what ever their loss had been! Severus, the destroyer of parents and families... Dear God what was I doing? I looked around the hall. Thank God the others students kept stopping to pull others along. I couldn't do it.

Finally we reached the Common Room, I watched as Andre gently placed the girls onto a sofa. He looked back to the other students, then to me – and quickly went back to comforting the girls. He must have wanted me to look after the others. I turned around to see the students flooding in all around me. Not all of them were crying, but they were all so upset to see their classmates in such a state. I looked to Andre again. He really seemed to know what he was doing. The way he was speaking to the girls, he was so confident… I should do something for the other students I thought, but I was completely lost. The other Prefects entered with the rest of the students. I backed up to a table in a corner where I could see everyone. See them, but not help.

It was a nightmare. I just sat with them for most of the morning. I didn't move - I just sat in my corner on the table watching over them. Their unbearable cries I knew were a punishment for my Sins.

As noon approached, Andre came to my side. He pointed out the girl he had carried. She had lost her mother he told me. The one he held up with his left hand - her oldest brother was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange, simply because he had gotten in her way one night at the Hog's Head. He told me several more stories, and all the while I said nothing. These poor children would never be the same, and all the while I kept thinking – it's my fault. I lay near death in Hogsmeade all those years – hiding, doing nothing, giving him information once in a while... For all I know my inaction, or the information I gave, could have directly lead to the attacks that claimed the lives of their families.

My inaction. Nothing had changed, for I was completely ignoring the present. I was not acting or speaking. I fought with all of my strength - forcing myself ask, "Andre, did you lose anyone?" It is the question that we all must ask of everyone we meet these days. Everyone hates to ask it, but it has to be done.

"No," he said, and I was so relieved for I would not have known what to say. He just went on to explain that he had only known a family friend who had died, and that he had only met her once.

We said no more after that. Noon came, and with it the House Elves. They brought food to everyone gathered in the Common Room, as I'm sure they did for all of the other houses. No really ate much. The afternoon that followed was fairly quiet and uneventful. The silence was broken only by intermitted cries and wails. Around five, a note arrived which said that we were to take the students to the Great Hall for dinner. We arrived and left the Great Hall as we had done this morning, only this time to my relief no one needed to be carried. I could not have borne the weight, and I don't mean that in the physical sense.

After dinner, the Heads of Houses were instructed to return to their own rooms - leaving the Prefects and Healers to look after the students in our stead. So we, the adults were being relieved of our duty, but what of the Prefects? That is quite a responsibility to leave in the hands of teenagers… and yet, Andre and the others had been far more equipped than I to deal with the crisis. What would I have done had it not been for them? Matilda was right to scowl at me earlier. She is absolutely right to hate me – yes – especially at a time like this! She should have scowled at me for my failure. I'd been hopeless and no help to the students at all.

So I left them. I left the House of Slytherin in the highly capable hands of the Healers and the Prefects and returned to my room.

Alone in my room... alone in my room save for the presence of The Prophet. The List was within... I was not alone. I slid back into my trance. It was, as it had been this morning, a bomb – a time bomb and I could hear it ticking as I paced about the room, fearing too greatly what lay printed across all those pages. The bright light and muffled sound growing louder as my pacing turned to stumbling about. The horrid sound, my own heart, the bomb - or both, I did not know I was too near fainting – but the next thing I knew I had torn open the paper

My fingers ripped through the pages tracing the lines of names on the first list – "The List of Those Who Have Died". I ran my hand down the page - through the section of names starting with the letter E – then drew back my hand. Oh dear God I'd done it again! Was I angrier with myself for forgetting or for the circumstances themselves! I did not know – all I knew is that I grew far sicker to the point of stabbing pain as I neared the names.

No!

His first and then hers.

Potter, James.

Potter, Lily.

I collapsed. I hit the floor hard but felt little of the physical pain as my skull impacted upon the stones. How? Why? How can they do this! Its wrong – it has to be. Is this all that remains of a life after all she has been and said and done - is she now just a name in a tragic list of lives lost in a war?

But she's not – she's not! She was… she was Lily. She was more than a name – more than anyone will ever know, for no one loved her as I did… as I still do, as I always will, and this is all my fault…

I sobbed for what must have been hour, unable to drag myself from the floor. When I finally stood up I wretched. I rinsed my mouth out then I left the bathroom because I knew I was far from finished.

Growing sick again I scanned through the rest of the dead… many names rang bells, but none set off alarms for they were not the names I feared to find. And then I understood – for of course, they could not be listed with the names of all the pure.

"The Dead Among The Death Eaters." They were on another page. So many names... Were all these people really Death Eaters! I had no hope so I ran through it quickly - crying as I did. All the way, near the end….

Rosier, Evan.

I hit my head against the dresser to dull the pain in my heart. My eyes were too full of tears. I looked back down and saw his name instantly –

Wilkes, Caligula.

Again I cried, again I hit my head – Oh God at the very least be together and let me not think you both alone. Finally I forced myself to look at the page once more… the room was spinning I could barely read - I had to make sure I had not missed it, but it was not there. Frantically I turned the pages, The List of the Missing – no but then that wouldn't be. "The Missing Among The Death Eaters," again, scores of names and finally the last one I would have really known.

Torchwood, Tisiphone.

Not definitely alive, but not definitely dead either. If she is alive, she will have to remain hidden, for both sides will hunt her now for sure.

Right – Dumbledore – can you hide this other woman? No I don't love another woman, she was just some girl I was fucking - but hide her anyway since you did such a good job last time…

No – she'll be better off with out my interference. It makes no difference. I am deluding myself to even jest. For in my heart I know she is dead.

So what else was there for me to do, I lay there for another hour or so staring at Lily's name because I killed her. Her name is on this list, I might as will have written it myself for it is all my doing. A girl - just a girl no older than the one Andre carried today, her long red hair flowing like fire behind her has she flew on her swing. Laughing innocently playing, braiding her sister's hair... reading to me from a book of fairy tales while I read to her from The Tales of Beetle the Bard and then I turned around and I killed her.

Paralyzed on the floor - I stared at her name and cried until I hadn't the strength to go on. The last of my tears were shed… My eyes cleared, leaving only the cold dead newsprint that remained of my love… my life. Then I saw it. My Sins are far greater than his. He killed – but I betrayed her.

The last of my life force seemed to slip away. I could do it. I should have, but there was no point. I felt nothing, only my arm growing numb against the floor, pinned beneath me in the awkward position in which I lay. But I need my arm to function. I needed to write this all down because it cannot be forgotten.

Nothing remains. I am completely dead inside. Now I must take to the water, and lie upon my bed, for I will see no sleep on this night.

~Wednesday 24 November – Around 10 in the morning – Potions Class

I woke up. So I did sleep. For how long I do not know. My head hurt when I woke up. More than a headache this was worse. Right, I nearly cracked my skull last night and then purposefully did it again. Stupid.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like some mad vulture. My eyes were bloodshot from all the crying I had done. I looked so sick for my skin was so pale it seemed grey. Even the dark circles beneath my eyes were darker than they normally are. I might just as well have taken a hit to both eyes. Then I looked past my reflection to the floor. There it still was…

The Prophet, still lying on the floor where I'd left it. What should I do with the thing? I hated it, and yet, it is them... It is their memorial. I cannot just get rid of it. I cradled it in my arms and began to cry again. I know what it is to be held by a person… but all the people I have ever cared for are dead. Holding that paper is the closest I can ever come to being embraced for the rest of my life. Again I cried. I had to let go - but I couldn't. I held it and sobbed. I called out her name – the hour grew later. I missed breakfast, but I would have to go to class. Let go, let go… I kept telling myself, she is gone. Let go – all that remains is her son. Let go.

I threw water on my face and hurried for the classroom. If I was quick I would not be late. My first class… I did manage to make it on time, but I had not let go. I couldn't. I had brought with me The Prophet and my journal - both concealed between two large books. Which brings me to where I am now. Yes I am doing something terribly Sinful by writing in class. Thank God this class is Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws. I have given them a reading assignment for the first period of class - it has kept them both occupied and quiet. I feel guilty for this.

It is wrong to be so distracted before them, but the greater Sin is to do this publicly. I was extremely careful, casting countless spells, hexes and charms upon my old journal - dousing it every day with Concealing Solutions. I must be far more cautious now. Years ago I wrote in class. I cannot take such risks, after today I won't but for now - I need it, because this book is all I have.

~Wednesday 24 November – Around 11 in the morning – Potions Class

I cannot stop staring at The Lists... And though I feel it is my duty to do so, it is impossible for anyone person to take in all of the names.

Still, I know enough now. I know the numbers, and I know the now what the odds actually are. In each of my classes there are at least four students who lost parents to The War. No less than two students in each class would have lost older siblings. Grandparents were lost, but on a much smaller scale – two for each year rather then each class. As to aunts, uncles or cousins, six per class. Once one accounts for friends, colleagues, and acquaintances, everyone likely knew at least one person who perished.

To make matters worse, I just noticed something else. The Curse upon the Defense Against the Dark Arts Post… The former professor, Elias Tempest is dead - killed this past summer by Rodolphus Lestrange. So all of the students save for the first years - did in fact know someone.

As to my class, I only gave them a simple Sleeping Draught to complete for review. They would all have mastered this potion years ago, but why should I tax them with anything else? After all, I know the odds now. Four parentless students are still suffering wounds that were so cruelly reopened by the Ministry in an effort to force closure upon all of us. We were given our time to mourn, and now we must become productive again and rebuild what was destroyed. Does The Ministry understand that none of those things are possible?

I must stop writing now. I must go out to them…

~Wednesday 24 November – Evening, My Room

I don't remember what happened – I just got back to my room and all I know is that I need to write. What happened since I last wrote? Oh. Of course. Them.

My N.E.W.T class entered the room, and though most of them, including Albert Runcorn looked lost and despondent, but Matilda Weston was practically beaming. What ever she had just done, or was considering doing to me - I did not care to know. As Matilda took her seat she gave me a disapproving look and just shook her head at me. This was her way of telling me just how badly I had failed at looking after the students yesterday. I did my best to ignore her, then gave the class their instructions and left them to work. Nothing happened. I suppose Matilda's pawns were too distracted to do her bidding.

Nothing happened during lunch either, and I was beginning to think myself lucky - which should have been my first clue as to how the afternoon would proceed. The start of my third year class of Gryfindors and Slytherins was tense. A Gryffindor boy broke into sobs so I sent him with another student to see Madame Pomfrey. Again I thought myself lucky that I had made it nearly a week and a half with out having to send a student to the Hospital Wing as a result of injuries. So why did I not see it coming?

Near the end of class a caldron exploded on one of the Slytherin girls causing her face to erupt into boils. It was awful. I saw the caldron begin to boil over, and I knew form the color of the smoke what was about to happen. I spun on the spot and began to run but before I could finish calling out to them it was too late. The second the liquid splashed her face I swear I felt it myself. She started screaming in pain and fear and I began to choke up. I'd been burned countless times as a student. I know how much it hurts, but there is nothing worse than having to watch someone that you care about suffer…

I remembered our first year when she was hit by a neighboring student's brew. Her hand – but I felt the same awful pain in my hand the pit of my stomach, the same fear and guilt as I did standing in that classroom. But somehow, watching that girl was almost worse – it was worse, because this was my fault! She was my responsibility.

I fought hard not to show emotion. I told two other students to accompany her to the Hospital Wing while I tried my best to calm the rest of the class. There was no use in having them continue the lesson. It took ten minutes to restore them to order. I had them clean up and read for the rest of class. I stayed behind my desk to hide my shaking hands.

It was just a case of boils - it happens all the time. I knew this, and yet I could not stop worrying about the girl. Her name, I didn't even know her name so many students I can't keep track of them all. That failure had made me feel even worse - so found I the roster and looked up her name. Swanhilde Eyton. Awful, I am an awful person. I only know the names of my bad students. Of course, I know only evil - I follow that and not the light…

I wanted to visit Swanhilde in the Hospital Wing after class, but knew I had no place in doing so. The last thing that poor girl needed was my tainted presence in that place of healing. Instead I went for a walk after the class had ended. The sun sank, the stars came out, and yet I felt no better. Finally I resolved to visit her in Slytherin. Madame Pomfrey would certainly have healed her by then.

I am still sickened by it, what happened when I stood before our wall of skulls and spoke the password. I said it - I knew it. Andre had even reconfirmed this with me just yesterday when we had brought the students there from the Great Hall. Seven Years and not once did I forget or not know a password. Sure, my room was no longer located in Slytherin proper, but I was locked out of my own home! Why? It actually hurt to be stranded on the other side of he wall with no way in. Why? And suddenly the pain in my heart stopped as I understood.

Matilda. That fucking bitch.

I stormed off in a fury. I don't know where I thought I was going. I could think of nothing but my irritation at having been denied access to Slytherin. How dare she, I thought. I was a student long before her. I was there before…. I was there before.

She does not know! None of them know. The lake fed pools! I remembered - I could get into Slytherin if I wish by simply swimming through that hole in the wall. I would need to undo a few charms, but after that there would be no stopping me. And this would be better would it not? I could slip in unnoticed, ascertain the fate of Swanhilde and be gone before anyone even knew I had been…

I took off my shoes, entered the pool, and within a few minutes I was clear to the other side. I cast a drying charm on myself this time. I was still damp but at least I would not leave a puddle as I had the last time...

I found a pillar in the shadows and hid there for a while. At first I heard nothing – just the usual gossip, the troubles of naïve teenagers and complaints about exams… And then I heard her. Not Matilda Weston, but Joan Ogden.

"Brett" I heard her say, "you did as you were told?"

"Yeah. You should know. Its all anyone's talked about." I peered cautiously around the pillar. Sure enough it was the boy who sat beside Swanhilde.

"We wanted to hear it from you." Matilda said sulkily to him. I could see them, Matilda Weston, Albert Runcorn, Joan Ogden, Elwyn Edgecombe and a group of no less than fifteen other students, male and female all stood surrounding Brett. Matilda broke from the throng for a moment to call the rest of the packed Slytherin Common room to attention. "Now Brett," she said as she pulled the boy out to face the crowd, "Tell everyone what you have just told us."

He looked out to the crowd. I could still make out his face from the side of the room where I hid. He hesitated, fidgeting with his hands for a moment as his eyes darted about the room. Finally he spoke up. "When no one was looking I slipped the powder you gave me into her caldron." he sounded uncertain at first, but as he continued his explanation, he grew as haughty as Matilda herself - smirking as he told the crowd, "It was I who caused the cauldron to explode."

Many of the students cheered, but others looked positively frightened by his proud admission.

"Fantastic work Brett! You have done well." Matilda said clapping him on the back.

"You should have seen her face!" Brett chimed in.

Joan snapped angrily at this - "I don't care about her face - I care about the look on his face."

"We care about the look upon both of their faces." Matilda was quick to correct her. Still she spoke in perfectly charming and charismatic tones. "Swanhilde got what she deserved when she refused to join our cause. Let this be a lesson to all of you. Those who refuse us will be punished, and those who help us, will be richly rewarded. Brett, you will now be protected, and treated as one of our closest allies! We will see to it that favors are bestowed upon you very soon. Let that be a lesson to all of you as well. We always make good on our promises!"

I was going to be sick. I couldn't breathe. The room was growing dark - I had to get out.

I ran back, swam under the wall, sealed it and raced here to my desk as fast as I could. I am so ill - shaking, and terrified of it. I have tried so hard this whole time not to think on it. Writing the stupid little tragedies of the day was the easy part. Watching them, hearing them, writing what they said - that was the most horrific memory to endure – because that's what he did.

That's what he used to do to all of us. He tortured us if we failed him and rewarded us when we harmed others. And what did I just do! I spied! I acted as a spy on my own students whom I'm supposed to be protecting! Even Weston, Ogden, and Runcorn - are they not my charges too? Should I look out for them - or fear them because they are so similar? Oh God what have I done - what am I doing!

I don't want to stay awake - I feel sick and panicked and the room keeps spinning. There is someone else in this room with me. It is not living and it is not a ghost but it wants me dead or worse.

I don't want to sleep. They will get to me for sure. I'm so tired. If I don't sleep, I will still be able to teach, won't I? I can drink coffee mixed with elixirs. I know that will work. My hands will shake worse than ever but I'll be there and able to teach…

I'm going to try and read. Maybe I will be all right.


	11. Chapter 11

~Thursday 25 November – Dawn, My Room

The presence of the sun. I see it now beyond the wall, burning my eyes like the grace of an angel and I think I have never been so grateful to look upon the light as I am now. I am terrified to look away. I am still shaking all over… covered in blankets and I cannot stop shaking. Don't ever leave me.

I fell asleep last night when I so desperately did not want to. I feel asleep on my astronomy book – you were _supposed_ to protect me! Oh God what a mess I am - crying over the betrayal of a book, but then again why wouldn't I - when books are my only friends - and you didn't protect me!

I don't want to write it. Dear God don't make me write it but I must or I will never stop reliving it. I know I will never stop thinking about it – but perhaps I will stop shaking if I focus my fingers upon the act writing.

My dream - my _memory_ that came back to me last night when I slid into the vulnerable realm of sleep… I must write it. It is my Sin and this my Penance….

Not that I shall ever atone…

I left Hogsmeade. The sun had gone, leaving deep pink streaks across the sky. I remember thinking them beautiful. I brought to mind another night that had occurred many years earlier. We walked our familiar path through the woods - Evan Rosier, Caligula Wilkes, Nereus Avery, William Mulciber, Tisiphone Torchwood and myself… We had all snuck out again. We were so empowered by our recklessness – so superior in our blatant disregard for the rules and yes - I relished it for it was the first that time I finally felt what Potter had felt for all of his life. Stupid, for to think of where that path eventually led us… But there we were – naïve, nervous and exhilarated as we hurried towards Hogsmeade. We kept hushing one another as we snapped twigs underfoot, breaking into constantly into uncontrollable laugher.

It had been years since we had lived such life with them. I had not been with any of my former friends in ages. I knew I would not see them that night as I made my way to the house. I had my reasons for remaining in solitude and for keeping them at a distance… very good reasons.

Part of me did fear that I might see one of them that night. Which seems completely idiotic now - for what danger could I possibly have brought to any of them? I needed only to see him, give him what he had asked for and buy a few more months of security for my mother, and myself and for that one too - though I tried not to think on it.

That's how it was back then. I didn't think of anything. Because I was an idiot. Because I was a selfish git who didn't care. It was heartless and unjust for me to drown into my own sorrow when the world all around me was engulfed in flames. My silence and that of others would have only added fuel to the inferno. My silence…

My silence.

Why did I not remain silent on that night?

I appeared before the gates of Carrow Manor. Jocasta herself came to the gate. I was expecting a house elf, not the esteemed matriarc of the Carrow family herself. People feared and respected this woman, as they did no other in the circle of families who embraced The Dark Lord. All of the other families were lead by men, and though many of them would never admit to it, she frightened a great many of them. I had never seen her myself before that night, but when I looked up and saw her I froze - completely overcome by her presence and I instantly understood how this woman had come to be so feared.

Her grim face was flat and emotionless. She was tall for a woman, almost as tall as I am. To emphasize her formidable frame she wore a long, stiff black dress. Jocasta at one point would have had a long flowing mane of silken black hair, but it had long since thinned out and turned gray. Her appearance was in no way diminished. On the contrary, the way she wore it so tightly pinned back from her face only brought more attention to her extremely high forehead and perpetually arched eyebrows… but it was her eyes – her stele gray eyes forever fixed in a fearsome stare. I felt the violation of her eyes piercing my very soul.

She was immensely powerful. Jocasta Carrow could have destroyed me in an instant if she had so wanted, but to her I was not even worth the effort.

I shuttered. I tried my best to introduce myself and explain my purpose with out sounding like a frightened child. She didn't say a word to me. She just continued to stare straight into me.

She never blinked once.

Finally she nodded for me to enter the gate. She did not follow. For her to walk behind me would have been a grave insult to her esteemed heritage. Still I felt her watching me as I continued up the path to the front door of her house. I felt so guilty. For a disgusting Half-blood of such low birth to enter her house was a sacrilege of the most profound nature. I was about to desecrate the very place her family had called home for centuries.

I stepped up onto the porch. There was no sound but for the wooden heals of my boots striking aged wooden steps. The wind picked up as I reached the door, I looked back at her. She had not moved, and neither had her gaze. She could have been a darkly enchanted statue, for Jocasta stood firm - her black and gray frame unaffected by the wind that blew dead, brown leaves all around her. May. The month was May and yet those dark grounds seemed completely untouched by spring. As if that icy woman had turned the place into a permanent haven for late autumn. I finally forced myself to turn away from her. I had to ignore her and be strong – I had to stand before _him_.

Still under the heavy burden of her watchful eyes, I let myself into the front hall. There were no lights on in any of the rooms, so I made my way slowly back through the house. All I could do was to follow the sound of muffled voices from somewhere within the long labyrinth of rooms. Even in the shadows I could tell I was in a house far grander than anything I was accustomed to. I did my best not to touch anything.

Finally I saw the low light of flickering gas lamps glowing through the cracks of a massive wooden door. I knew it would be inappropriate for me to enter such a room with out having been properly announced. Had that been the reason Jocasta had not accompanied me? Was this a trap?

_It was, but not for me…_

I pushed the door open and tried to make myself seem small, like I always do. I slouched and dropped my head - spilling my hair over my face. Through the dark strands of my hair, I saw the frightful scene that I had unwittingly trespassed upon.

The Dark Lord sat across the room in a large leather chair. He might have been a king on a throne holding court. Standing all around him were his retinue, Ptolemy Carrow - Jocasta husband, Lucius Malfoy and his wife, all of the Lestranges, Avery's father, and Nott - alone with out his wife. Further from him stood Evan's father, Wilkes's father, and Mulciber's father, though off course none of their offspring were present. Even McNair had come to attend him. Oh dear God I had walked straight into a meeting of the Inner Circle.

Bellatrix laughed at me first. "What's the little Half-blood doing here? Oh Avery, how sweet, he must have come to ask if your son could come out to play!" Avery's father seemed most annoyed by this.

"Bella." Lucius nearly purred to her. She hated him, and yet even she was not immune to his power and persuasion. She acquiesced and retreated - to him, and that's when he looked up at me.

He grinned widely at the first sight of me._ "Severus, we've missed you. Come here son."_ He spoke sulkily in whispers, but every word was infused with such conviction and charm. His speech always seeps so perversely underneath one's skin. If you are strong and you can resist - then at first you will feel disgusted by his words - but no one it seems is ever strong enough. Sooner of later, everyone falls prey to the seduction. _"Come Severus."_ His icy, melodic voice had entered full into my blood, and I was already walking across the great room towards him.

I instantly knelt before him as would be expected for one of my rank. His scent had grown stronger since the last time I had been before him. The overpowering smell of far too many cleansing solutions and the fluid we use to suspend dead creatures - I grew sick and was brought to my sense again.

"_Severus,"_ He whispered as he gestured with his long bone like fingers for me to stand back up_. "It has been such a long time since last you visited, I feared you had lost your love of our Cause. Tell me, what's been troubling you son?"_

Troubling me? Love for the Cause? I blocked my true thoughts with Occlumency and did not allow him to see – because all I could think was - I don't care about the Cause. I don't care if I live or die, or if the sky falls or if you want me to bring you petty pieces of gossip overheard at the Hog's Head while I hide and spy for you. I'm just quietly waiting to die.

"My Lord, forgive me," I said in a firm tone as I feigned devotion, "It has been a long time since I have heard anything worthy of repeating to you. The Blood Traitors in The Hog's Head are fools who fear even to speak of you, for they do not understand."

He may have manipulated and controlled us, but I knew that I could placate him through the delicate use of flattery. That said - I was always so cautious to not fall victim to Hubris by pressing too hard. One I misstep would permit him to see straight through the facade and that would be it. But I was always careful… so all I had to do then was to feed him trivial bits of information from time to time, pretend I that I cared and he would leave me alone.

It was my Sin. I closed my eyes to the truth and played my part. It was an act, but there was no denying it - I was acting for them.

"My Lord, I have come to you tonight because I have information for you which I believe will be of great use to you." I could tell by the look in his horrible eyes that my absence had already been forgiven, "My primary assignment was to follow fortune tellers, and as you had foreseen, one has made a prediction which pertains to you."

I told him.

I spoke the words that sealed their deaths. He dismissed me and I left. Still I thought nothing of what I had done. Even if I did not know enough to realize… did I not think of what he would do to that family? That's just it, isn't it? No one wants to think about such things… but it is our failure to underestimate the atrocities that others are capable of that ultimately leads to disaster and ruin. And what was I doing? All I wanted was to lay in a crawl space, play dead and ignore everything around me.

That's exactly where I was - laying in my crawl space when he summoned me the following afternoon. I had no idea what to make of it at first, for he _never_ summoned me. The spies were meant never to see each other - let alone the rest of the Death Eaters or him unless we had relevant information. We were almost never summoned for we were a curse even among them. My arm was _burning._ It hurt almost as much as it had on the night that I was first branded. I nearly wretched - I could barely Disapparate.

But Disapparate I did, and I appeared back at Carrow Manor. I hurried through the gate this time. There is no hesitating for formalities when The Dark Lord himself has summoned you. I raced toward the room where we had last met but found them all sooner as they were all gathered in the large dining room to the left of the long hall way.

I entered the room. Everyone was making their way to the table - taking their places for a dinner. Everyone who had been present the previous night was there with a few additions. Jocasta sat near the head of the table beside her husband. Their children sat further down near the end of the table.

I knew of them certainly, since they both had been just a year and two years ahead of me in school. But they had spent so much time away from Hogwarts due to disciplinary matters - that I had barely even to spoken to either of them. Not that it would have mattered… they kept mostly to themselves according to everything that I ever heard. I looked at them then, hoping that being close to me in age they would aid me, but of course they ignored me.

It was Lucius then... Lucius Malfoy whom I had come to fear and mistrust the most who guided me. "You are sitting beside me Severus," he said as he gestured to an empty chair. I sat down, still completely bewildered as to what was going on. "Have you met, Antonin Dolohov?" he asked as he pointed out the wizard who was sitting to my left.

He wasn't much older than me, but I didn't recall ever having seen him at school. He nodded at me and we shook hands. It was all so sickening and so surreal. I had such a terrible foreboding but I forced myself to remain calm.

The Dark Lord appeared. He swept across the room in a wisp of smoky robes while his faithful serpent glided about the floor beside his bare feet. He took his place at the head of the table and greeted everyone.

What was this?

He continued, acknowledging each person present until finally he got to me. _"Severus,"_ he said as I his my feelings behind a wall of Occlumency, _"You are to be commended. You are only the third member of your generation to be welcomed into the Inner Circle,"_ I looked to the younger Carrows, but they only glanced back at me with vacant expressions. I noticed however, that most of the others were politely nodding their approval of me. Just then I felt the Mark on my arm burn once more with searing hot pain as if it was sealing my fate - making my appointment to The Inner Circle that much more real.

What the hell had happened?

He was laughing – that horrible laugh reserved only for times when he is most perversely pleased. _"I have the utmost faith in you Severus,"_ he said still grinning, "_Your two young counter parts had displeased me in the past but after… a time I forgave them and welcomed them back into The Circle."_

Of course he paused when he said that. Even I living in the shadows had heard about what he had done to Jocasta as punishment for her daughter's missteps. It was his way of reminding everyone of the terrible price we would pay for our failures. Jocasta, to her great credit never flinched, even as many of the others seemed collectively to shutter. She may be a cold and calculating woman, but she displayed a tremendous amount of strength, I will give her that.

He started to talk again. It was awful. No one spoke but him. We all watched him nervously. Everyone remained tense for several minutes – even after he finished speaking. House elves served food and eventually everyone began to speak quietly with one another. It took some time for the room to resume the level of laugher and noise that was heard before his arrival.

Without warning he abruptly addressed us once again. All sound ceased. "_I have received an insight of great worth that I wish to share with all of you. Severus has informed me that a boy will be born with the power to undo me. I of course cannot allow this, so the child will be destroyed before he has the chance to do so."_

I was frozen. The guilt and fear did not register on my face for I was too stunned to react. _Idiot. _ Idiot you are! What were you thinking to tell him such a thing – I thought. _Occlumency_ something inside of me instantly cried out. I must continue to employ Occlumency!

The room had remained as quite as the grave when he had finished speaking – but it was Bellatrix who finally broke heavy silence. "Why do we not just kill him now My Lord – find the mother and kill her before she can even give birth."

"_Patience Bellatrix."_ He spoke to her in a mere whisper. _"The mother, the father and the boy will all be destroyed in time. I must see this boy... do you understand? I myself will face him, and then it shall be done."_

Death – I have condemned an entire family to death. I focused my every thought into Occlumency to shield my mounting terror.

"Forgive me My Lord," Bellatrix said as she tried to sound calm, "But I see no reason to take such chances."

With one looked he silenced her for good. _"The child, as Severus has so graciously informed me, will be born as the seventh month dies to parents who have thrice defied me."_ His poisoned words had completely transfixed all who were present at the table – everyone that is, but not me. _"It just so happens, that two people who have been most troublesome to me are expecting their first child at the end of July. James and Lily Potter are the ones responsible for this disturbance. Make no mistake of it, they will pay dearly for this."_

There are no words.

There are no words in any language to describe the avalanche - the world shaking - the sky falling - the air being sucked from my lungs - crushing me – her– _Lily!_ My heart was racing - the room was spinning - this wasn't real - I wanted it to stop - I wanted to scream-

"_Severus, why do you seem so troubled?_ He spoke – to me directly. I whipped my head in his direction but did not dare blink as he continued his toxic speech_, "Fear not, for you have done me a great service by informing me of this. Because of your actions, I will be able to stop this child from harming us before he can even raise a wand. Because of you Severus, our Great Work will continue. For this act, I promise, you will be well compensated. For this act, you have been elevated to The Inner Circle. From now on you will be protected and revered by everyone here present as one of my most faithful and trusted Death Eaters."_

My entire body shut down. I went into shock. Frozen still. One move, and I feared he would kill her on the spot. But he said he would wait – did he not? Wait until the child was born? May until July… I wanted to throw up. I was so sick and so terrified. The world around me had been muted… I was alone in a crowded room full of people who would kill me upon one missed breath if I were to appear to be even the slightest bit disloyal.

The dinner party broke up and soon everyone was standing about the room drinking. I put all of my energy into the stem of the wine glass between my fingers. I stood as still as a statue, drinking occasionally, pretending to pay attention. I could concentrate only on the glass in my hand or it would all come undone. Thank God for all of the clamor in the room, or they all would surely have heard my heart pounding.

I left the party as the others did, Disapparating as quickly as I could back to Hogsmeade. I waited until I had reached the crawl space, cast Muffliato and began to sob. It was over. The world was over and I had done it – I had marked her for death. I don't remember much. I know I wrote something in my journal. I know I argued with myself for a long time over what to do.

Lily was going to be killed - because of me. The child would die and it would be my fault. James would die and it would be my fault. I was crying then - even over James. I hated him… he'd hurt me almost more than any other person - but I never wanted _this_. I wanted to _be_ him. I wanted to be _one of them_. I went mental - I sobbed and was a ten-year-old boy in that crawl space.

_Get it together Severus!_

Finally I decided it had to be done. I would beg for her life. The child I knew he would never allow to live… but if I could just save her… Even then – even as I made my way to the street below, I knew how imposible it all was. By asking him for anything, I myself would most likely be killed - but I had to try. There was nothing left.

It had only been a few hours. I Disapparated and returned to The Carrows. I knew the risk I was taking by entering into their house, but I was far past worrying about myself. I reached the room where I had found him on the night previous. Sure enough, he was sitting up with his snake and Bellatrix. Both sat near him rapt with attention as he spoke.

"My Lord," –the instant I'd spoken, all three of them turned to stare at me.

He was surprised but not angry, _"Severus, what is it that has brought you back here this night?"_

"My Lord, forgive me, I have come to speak with you on a private matter." I glared at Bellatrix, hating her almost as much as I hated myself.

"_Of course. Bellatrix,"_ he whispered tenderly to her, _"If you would please excuse us…"_

She was furious of course, but she obeyed him with out question and left the room. I waited until the door clicked shut behind her - until her footsteps reached the top of the stairs and she slammed another door before I acted. I crossed the floor, and then knelt before him. I summoned every once of courage that remained in me before I spoke. For if I was to show any sign of weakness while begging for her life, all hope would be lost - and with it her life. "My Lord, forgive me. While I fully understand and agree with your plan to destroy the child," I lied, "I must ask you, to please spare the life of the mother."

"_The Mudblood?"_ he said, repeating the word I had spoken so many years ago - the very word that had severed our friendship.

"Yes My Lord, her." My voice almost wavered, but I thought of her and held on.

"_I remember,"_ he said, _"When you first came to me you were suffering for girl who would not return your affections for her."_

I had to think quickly. To admit to the feelings in my heart would have been to admit to weakness. To seem beholden to her, a Muggle - Born who would not even speak to me would have been abhorrent to him. He was testing me. "I admit it is foolish of me, but though I know she is beneath me, I still desire the Mudblood."

He was silent for a moment, but he was grinning in a wicked way. I could almost tell what he was thinking. It made me sick, but that _was_ what I had wanted him to think…

"_Yes Severus," _he began, speaking in a way that made my skin crawl,_ "I suppose, that there would be no reason to kill the mother once the father and child are out of the way. After all, I did promise you compensation, and the Dark Lord always keeps his promises. So be it, once the father and son are dead, the Mudblood will be all yours to do with as you see fit."_

"Thank you My Lord," I excused myself then left the house.

I Disapparated back to Hogsmeade, but this time did not return to my crawl space. I was shaking all over - sick with myself over what I had done. What had I done? Did I really just beg the Dark Lord to make her my slave while her husband and son will be slaughtered! I threw up then collapsed. I lay on the ground thinking about it. I didn't trust him for a second – and either way, she's dead. James would die whether he kept his promise or not, the baby… dear God he was going to murder and infant!

All hope was lost, and so, with no hope at all I sent an owl to Dumbledore - begging him to meet me on the hill above Hogwarts. I couldn't put my warning into writing, for if it fell into the wrong hands there would be no chance at all of saving them.

So I waited. I waited nearly two hours for his reply. Already I was taking a great risk by sending an owl. I was hooded but still I had exposed myself by visiting the Owl Post at such a late hour. Appearing in public so late at night - my affinity would have been rather obvious. At the height of the war, the "good people" did not venture out after a certain time. I feared that I would die or be caught before I could warn some one.

Finally his response came. It was short. All it said was, "Yes Severus, I will meet with you." I walked away quickly to a place where I could Disapparate unseen. I knew my chances were slim. He was a member of The Order and I was a known Death Eater. The procedure would be to kill me on the spot, but I had to stay alive long enough to warn him.

I Disapparated to the hill but he was not there. I waited, pacing up and down and all I could think was – he's going to kill me, he's going to come with a host of Aurors and he'll kill me before I even have a chance to speak. I couldn't breathe. My heart was beating so hard and so fast that it ached from the effort. The pain of it – the fear – the unbearable thought that I would fail and she would die. I took out my wand, the only friend I had held on to it for dear life. That sliver of wood was all I had left – my soul protection and my last hope for saving her.

The sound – the blinding flash - my wand had been wrenched from my hand. I accepted it because I knew I deserved it. I fell to my knees and begged, "Don't kill me."

The wind whipped up around us in a violent fury. His voice carried over the wind like a thunderclap, "That was not my intention."

My mind raced. I saw him standing above me – no longer the kindly headmaster of the school, but a great and imposing wizard. The only one he had ever feared, and now Dumbledore's image had filled me with the same fear – for I had never seen him so angry. "Well, Severus?" again his voice seemed to roar above the wind, "What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"

I told him what I had done. His reaction – the look on his face, his anger – I cannot begin to describe in words but his expression will haunt me for the rest of my life. He asked me why I did not beg for her life in exchange for the child… I tried to explain.

His face grew darker than ever I had seen it. He looked down upon me and I heard his voice say, "You disgust me."

I hung my head. I had to look away. His words had hurt me more than any insult James or anyone else had ever thrown at me - because he was right. Dumbledore was absolutely right to revile me.

He stared at me then, with a fury I had not even seen in the eyes of my father on his most tempestuous of tirades and he said to me, "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

What could I say to that? It was true. It was what I had begged of the Dark Lord in desperation - but if I had truly wished for that I would not have been on my knees before _him!_ What sick person could wish death upon a child! Even _James_ – whom I'd hated for years I could _never_ wish death upon. I wanted to save him and I wanted to save the child just as much as I wanted to save her – but there was no point in arguing. I was far from innocent after all, and my feelings meant nothing. Saving them was all that mattered.

"Hide them all then," I begged, and suddenly her face - the beautiful vision of her, my love and my life flashed before my eyes and I began to cry, " keep her – them – safe. Please."

He loved James. He always did. I thought for sure that the moment I had warned him of their impending deaths that he would leave me and do everything within his power to protect them. I knew this. I would be killed or sent to Azkaban. Of course he would help them for they were his most loyal and beloved students – they were members of The Order of the Phoenix – they had all been _friends!_ But instead, he remained still and said nothing. He looked down at me, his terrifying eyes piecing mine – finally he said, "And what will you give me in return?"

What! He… thought not to protect them? "In – in return?" I asked.

I had no idea how even to feel, let alone what I should say. I didn't understand. That was the last thing I had expected. Why wouldn't he want to help them? Why did he need compensation? And why ask me such a thing! Didn't he understand? I _hated_ myself for what I had done. There was not a thing I wouldn't do to take back my actions. I looked up at him, and said as firmly as I could, "Anything."

He studied me carefully and did not respond. I knelt there trembling - what was happening? The Dark Lord so quick to spare her life when Dumbledore hesitates to tell me if he would even help them? This had to be a dream - a nightmare. Dear God that it was all a nightmare, but the cold ground beneath me, the trees that refused to bear leaves despite the season, and his inescapable gaze were all too real...

Finally he nodded at me. "Very well. Lily, James and their son will be protected. You will repent in full and relinquish your loyalty to Voldemort. You will be considered a member of The Order of The Phoenix, but this must be done quietly. You will remain in the service of Lord Voldemort and act as my spy henceforth. Do you understand?'

Repent? Become a member of The Order? I deserved Azkaban or at least death… This was in no way forgiveness or a second chance, but it felt too close to one. It all seemed so wrong - but I would have done anything. I did not care what happened to me. They would live and everything would be all right. I agreed with all my heart to do anything that he asked of me from that moment forward. I lived in constant fear, but I really did believe that the three of them would be safe under the protection of Albus Dumbledore…

What have I done? Dear God what if we fail again. The boy… the baby. I'm going to be sick. I have to pull myself together. I have to teach very soon. They will already be wondering what has caused me to come so late to breakfast.

I still feel as terrified as I did last night before I was assaulted by this memory that was brought back into light from having to watch the students as they did the same… Why am I still so frightened? The moment has passed. All the things I feared most to remember came back to me, did they not? I saw it. I relived it and wrote about it - so why am I still shaking?

Maybe I just need to get out of this room and face the day. Maybe that's all I need. The students - perhaps they will distract me from my terror. Even now that sounds so foolish a thing to think but I'm at a loss. So I must leave now…

DISCLAIMER

Dialog from this chapter was taken directly from the book "The Deathly Hallows." The conversation between Dumbledore and Snape was taken straight from the book – I did not write those lines.


	12. Chapter 12

~Thursday 25 November – Noon The Potions Class Room

I can still hear his voice in my head.

I'm going to stay here - I don't want to leave. I cannot bring myself to set foot in The Great Hall. The Draught of Peace that I had taken this morning has done nothing to calm me. Even now I can feel the slight effect that it had wearing off. It was folly to even take it. After what I have seen - after what I recalled in dreams last night, how can I rely on potions to steady my nerves?

I am starring at the flask on my desk, still fairly full of the fluid. Why even look? It won't silence his speech that keeps repeating in my head.

"…the Dark Lord always keeps his promises..."

I wanted so much for my classes to distract me. They didn't. I was lost before I even made it to my class. The sky…

It was almost as if he or someone else had made it happen – it was terrifying. Just when I had prayed for the light to never leave me - it did. I left my room, and as I walked through the halls, I watched as a mass of heavy storm clouds gathered outside the windows. The sky grew darker with each passing minute – with each turn I took down a hall until finally the clouds swallowed the sun and destroyed the light.

I tried to go on - telling myself that candles would suffice. I didn't know what was happening or what I was thinking, but just as I neared The Great Hall - I turned suddenly and nearly ran in the direction of The Hospital Wing.

Swanhilde.

I was running by the time had I arrived. I pushed the doors open, ran through them and nearly crashed head first into Madame Pomfrey herself.

"Severus!" She grabbed me by the shoulders and stopped me. "What is it, what's happened?"

I couldn't remember – I was still trying to catch my breath. I looked around the room trying frantically to find what it was that I had come for. The room was empty - no one was in any of the beds. She had been leaving - going to The Great Hall…the students – that's it. "Swanhilde – Miss Eyton, is she alright?"

She looked at me and seemed puzzled for a moment, "Yes, of course!" She still spoke in the fiery manner to which I had grown so accustomed as a student. "She was here yesterday. Just a routine case of boils, I had her healed and back to her Common Room in less than an hour. Severus what's the matter with you! You know a simple case boils is no cause for real concern!"

I had trouble comprehending her words after she had told me that Swanhilde had been healed. I stared at her - trying desperately to make sense of what she had said. Yes. Of course, that sort of magical malady happens quite frequently at this school but…

"Severus, is everything all right?" But she was no longer speaking fervently. She was talking to me as if I were an injured child. I don't know why, but the tone of her voice – Pomfrey speaking to me in that manner sent me instantly into a panic. I backed away - unable to breathe for my fear. "Severus, stay here a moment! What's the matter with you, is there something you needed to talk to me about?"

Talk to her - about what? Were she and Dumbledore conspiring agasint me - trying to get to me talk! "I'm fine" I lied to her. I felt a swell of guilt because she looked upset, but I still ran back to the Great Hall. I ran down the stairs and nearly fell at the sound – the thunderclap that started it. The storm - the torrent of pouring rain that hasn't ceased its fury since this morning. Its just as it was a few days ago – when all I could hear were the voices of the students pounding in my ears. Only now - I hear is the howling wind, the rain, their voices, and above all else him. I hear him and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

I tried to stay calm throughout breakfast. Madame Pomfrey was looking at me as she crossed the room. We locked eyes for a moment. Than it occurred to me - I see her every day, and yet, every time I see her - I instantly look away with out thinking on it. Why have I avoided her?

At that thought I got up and left breakfast early because I realized what was going to happen if I didn't run. I don't want to know. There was something and I didn't want to know what it was. I wanted to remember a few days ago, but after what I recalled last night I no longer want to know.

I taught my morning classes. I got through them – barely, and now I am fighting to hold on until my afternoon class arrives.

I don't think I can do this anymore. I can't breathe - I'm drowning. I want to scream but I can't for fear of the fact that some one will hear me. But I have to… I'm drowning and I cannot take care of these children. I cannot take care of him. I will finish my afternoon class and then I will find Dumbledore, and beg him to let me stop teaching.

~Friday 26 November – Nearly Dawn My room

It's been two hours. I've been back for two hours.

I'm still a bit damp, but I don't really feel cold anymore. The fire I lit for the first time since I took to this room… I think its working. What have I done? What did I do…

Now that I am here - I feel so ashamed and horrified at myself. Yet, I am here, and I feel somehow stronger and more defiant than I had previously… for now I have seen - now I know. Now I truly understand why I must do this.

It was wrong of me to dismiss my students early yesterday… But let them leave I did. I had just finished hiding my journal when I realized how late it had gotten. My students were at the door and so I let them in. I was on edge to begin with, but when they arrived early and I was unprepared - I almost went mad completely. I told them to read, but I stared out the window and focused completely on the pounding rain against the dirty windows. I could barely see the light through them - just the sheets of water cascading down the clouded glass…

Some one called my name. "Snape?" I turned my head in the direction of the students. Had one of them called me, or had I imagined this? I wasn't sure, but I knew I couldn't take it anymore. I told them that I needed to see the Headmaster on official Hogwarts Business and that class was to end early. I tried to sound as calm as possible.

I don't think any of them knew. They would have known that I was a bit troubled - that was imposible for anyone to ignore, but the fact that I was near fainting from fear – that no one could have known. Thank God that none of the students know what it is to stand before The Dark Lord or to have witnessed what his followers will do in his name.

There was no reason to contaminate them with my terror, so I waited until I knew they were gone – and then I ran.

I ran from the dungeons, I ran to the Gargoyle, I ran up the stairs, and I threw open the door to the office - but Dumbledore was not there. I heard the dry drawl of one of the portraits. "He's gone to The Ministry again." Phineas.

"Where is he!" I demanded as if he had not spoken.

"Augustus Rookwood's trial." He nearly yawned. "Most of the other portraits have joined their counterparts to watch. This promised to be one of the more eventful inquiries…"

He went on to say more but I had already run from the room. I was gasping for breath as I descended the stairs. Something was profoundly wrong, my heart was beating too fast - I was going to faint. The world swimming around me turned black as the pounding in my ears threatened to overtake me. My room – I had to get to my room before someone found me in such a state.

My room. I could see the door down the hall but something was wrong. Something ominous filled me with fear… A small brown parcel sat before the door to my room - waiting for me. I didn't want it. I knew I didn't want it, but I fell to my knees at its presence. With great trepidation I lifted it and held it out before me. There was a note attached. It was from Madame Pomfrey. I dropped it. I knew what it was, what they were - but I didn't want to open it. Still I needed to do something, so I opened the door to my room and kicked it in.

I had to open it. Why did I do it? Why did I put them on….

What was I thinking?

It was Pandora's box.

I opened it because I was looking for hope

…and to find hope – I had to release….

Everything.

I remembered everything. I will have those memories forever. Now I know, I will always know… where I was, what happened in the lost hours between that night when I had spoken with Dumbledore, and when I woke up days later on the date of my trial. I know now where I was, and how I... knew - how I found out…

I remembered first how it was that I had come back to the school as I opened the parcel from Madame Pomfrey. I ran my hands over the fabric and with in seconds the memories flooded my mind. And suddenly it was no longer the fabric... it was the earth – the cold damp soil of the forest floor that my hand caressed. I knelt in the woods on rocks, not the stone floor of my room. I had just finished burying my journal – Tisiphone, and all that remained of my former life with it. I marked the earth with a record that no one would recognize but her, cast the charms and -

My life was over. I ran. But Dumbledore found me. He threw his arm out to stop me running. I nearly collapsed in his arms when he grabbed me. He was yelling at me. "Where were you going Severus! What were you doing?"

I was struggling to catch my breath and crying so hard that I could barely answer, – "because I…" I tried to speak but I was going to be sick, "– I"

"Severus! Calm yourself and tell me what you were doing out here," he demanded.

"I- I had to say good – bye…"

It had taken all the will I had left so say and after speaking it, I collapsed into sobs. I couldn't speak or stand any longer. Dumbledore moved to Disapparate. I knew what he was doing, I tried to stand - but he had to hold me up. He spun on the spot and we were hurtling through blackness. I couldn't take the pressure on my chest and while we were rushing through the void – I blacked out and lost consciousness.

I don't remember. Her voice... a field, walking beside the river. Another life. Her mother in the kitchen while we played with blocks... She asked me something. I don't remember.

I don't remember, because I was asleep. I don't know how long it had been, but slowly I was drifting out of my dreams. Yellow, white light in a brightly lit room… but I still could not see. Everything was fuzzy, muffled voices… A young woman was speaking, she seemed troubled, but was ultimately calm as she spoke somewhere in the distance.

"…he shows signs of malnutrition, severe fatigue..." Where am I? White… yellow… lamps burning, white linen, brass beds… I know this place.

"I patched up hands as best I could, the spell seemed to take well enough but…" Hospital Wing. I'm in The Hospital Wing. I was lying flat on my back with my head turned to the side staring at the eastern wall. The walls, the curtains, the vacant beds – everything was bathed in that familiar warm yellow glow. I remember this place. I remembered waking up confused in that place as student once before.

My wand!

But I saw it a second later, sitting safely beside me on the table next to the bed. Thank God…

"I don't understand, is he a student? The Headmaster left him here half an hour ago then he left. He insisted that I give him the Draft of Peace, but I'm not authorized and he'd already fainted - "

As soon as I understood, I sat bold right up in that bed. I don't trust any one – not even her.

"Of course you should have consulted with me first! Albus should know better than to leave a young Healer in training with such a thing!" Madame Pomfrey was already rushing toward the bed before I could get up. "Severus!" She shrieked at me.

The young woman ran behind her, trying her best to keep up as she spoke quickly to explain, "Professor Dumbledore said he'd been with the Death Eaters? That he'd been on our side and had a run in with some Death Eaters who roughed him up. I don't understand Matron, after all they say has happened this night – it's all too much. I'm sorry if I did wrong – I'm sorry if I did not know him for a student but I - "

"Former student. He's a former student," she was saying to the young Healer. I didn't even care that Dumbledore had lied to them. I didn't care about anything. I remember – she grabbed me and forced me back down onto the bed. I kept trying to get up. Had I the strength I would have.

I was so angry with her. Looking back now… how she looked at me. Her eyes were full of tears. "Severus – what happened to you!" She was genuinely upset and concerned, either over me, or all that had happened on That night or both... She kept putting her hands on my face, but I kept violently turning my head from her in an attempt to get away. She was not deterred, she pulled my face close to hers – "What did they do to you Severus?" She kept trying to get me to talk, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything, and even if I had - I couldn't speak. I felt as though someone reaching inside of me squeezing the life from my lungs. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't swallow, and I didn't care.

That poor woman, whom I fear now that I would have stuck in that moment - had I the strength – such was my apathy… that poor woman was trying to help me and I didn't care. The younger woman, who seemed not much older then I reached out for my hand – but I wrenched it back. Then Madame Pomfrey herself tried to examine me. She reached for my wrist – I found my words – "Don't touch me!"

She backed off instantly. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head. "Severus, you're a mess," she said in a mere whisper. I don't know why I did it. It certainly wasn't sympathy toward her, for in that moment I was too foolish to feel any. I felt nothing. I was dead. Either way, I was dead, so I let look after me. What difference did it make? Go ahead and feel for my pulse - I have no heart - I have no life… I'm nothing.

She was picking the leaves from my hair when she finally spoke again. "Where are you things Severus?"

I'll give you the Sleeping Draught, but first tell me where your bed clothes are, and I'll have Claudia fetch them for you."

What?

I didn't fully understand what she had said… "What." Thought it was more of a statement than a question, for I still did not care.

"Where are your things?" She said

I understood what she meant that time but, "Things?"

"Yes!" She almost smiled. "Where are you things - I'll have Claudia fetch them."

I told her, "I don't have anything."

"What?" And she wasn't smiling anymore.

"They just gave me money once in a while. I'd buy food every now and then, but I never really had anything." I said that as if were all completely normal.

She stared at me in disbelief and shock. I looked back at her barely even blinking. I think that after a few moments of looking at my frightful appearance, she realized I was being serious - thought I'm certain she had no idea what the hell I'd been talking about. How anyone else would have handled it, I can't imagine, but this was Madame Pomfrey after all… Despite being horrified, she did her best to pretend that she wasn't and said - in as good of an impersonation of her own stern voice as she could muster up - "Well, you'll need to sleep in something. Here, take this a while."

She handed me a cup containing a dark fluid but I recognized the scent of the solution instantly. I may not have cared about anything, but even then I wouldn't have it. I did not trust her, Dumbledore or anyone. I certainly would not take any potion that would have left me vulnerable. I would never willingly put myself in a position where they could get to me. I snatched my wand from the table and vanished the potion before she could return.

When she did return, she was carrying a bundle of gray fabric in her arms. She placed it at the foot of the bed. I watched as she separated the fabric, pulling up what appeared to be a gray nightshirt. Inside, on the collar I could make out the crest and the name of the school stamped in black lettering. "It isn't much," she was saying as she surveyed the thing, "It's just a pair of pajamas left over from a time when the school had uniform bed clothes – but you take them now." She handed them to me and told me to get changed. But I never did, - because that's when Dumbledore appeared at the door.

Madame Pomfrey rushed over to speak with him. I struggled to hear what they were saying, but they were speaking so quietly. Finally I heard her speak up. "You can't take him Albus – he's sick!"

He answered her in his most reassuring tone. "You needn't worry Poppy, I will look after him." Her fears may have been allayed, but I knew enough to be frightened. I didn't want to stay there, but I didn't want to go with him either.

I forced myself to stand before I was asked to do so and walked over to Dumbledore. He took my arm and led me from the room. I looked back over my shoulder. Madame Pomfrey and the young healer were watching us. It was a mistake to have made eye contact, for I felt sorry. I wanted to stay, but I dropped my head and followed Dumbledore to his office.

I don't remember what he had said to me, but it was in harsh tones I know, and it had to do with my having left the school. He went on scolding me for having left. Several times he stressed that I was never to leave the grounds with out supervision ever again. I was starring up at the ceiling – it was if it had become the enchanted ceiling of The Great Hall, another sky above my head, spinning and spinning circles around me, bringing the walls with it. I was in a whirlpool of flashing visions and the sound of his voice was just another wave in the undertow that had taken me.

I started screaming. I was calling her name. I know I said it, I said I wanted to cut my throat and die. He let me scream. He let me carry on in my rage and merely stepped back as I fell to the floor in exhaustion, coughing and crying… unable to speak. I remember the moments just before dawn. Still he stood over me. Hours had passed. I couldn't even cry, I could only breathe in shallow breaths, and even that was difficult.

As daylight began to break in the sky, I began to fade into unconsciousness. He picked me up and put me in a chair… that chair – the wooden chair where according to the portraits I had remained for days - where Dumbledore trained me in my trance on what to say – the place where I remained until I awoke for my trial.

So there were no potions or memory charms. I had done that to myself. I shut myself down and made myself forget.

For several hours I tried to accept the memory that had resurfaced as a result of the parcel from Madame Pomfrey. I don't know why, but I had changed out of my clothes and was wearing the pajamas. Why did I put them on? Perhaps I saw it as an act of defiance. I suppose I was thinking, that a part of me would rather have spent those dark days in her care rather than in Dumbledore's…. though I'm not sure what difference it would have made in the long run. In fact perhaps, as much as I hate to think it - I was better off with him.

I certainly didn't think that last night. As the hours slipped by, I sat huddled in a corner of my room staring down at my bare feet against the stone floor. I listened to the storm assaulting my windows, and I couldn't help but notice just how much the uniform pajamas resembled prison clothes. They were, weren't they? Was I not a prisoner? Was I not there as a form of punishment - to fulfill a mission and to atone for what I had done? I was a prisoner. I would have been fine with this, but I could not help but to distrust the school. After all it had failed before – he had.

Dumbledore had failed to keep them safe, so how could I trust him now? I never trusted him - I never trusted the school. Memories of my school years began to flood my thoughts, but as they did they became more and more permeated by thoughts of Lupin. I remembered how much I hated him. I recalled why I hated him. He was put in place as a Prefect to protect me, and those like me from them, but he did nothing. My head swam with thoughts of Lupin and all that we were doing for her son. As I contemplated the whole grand scheme of things - I realized how similar this new plan was to the one that had been put in place to protect Lupin.

Her son was now in the care of her sister - so her family is involved, as is the Squib Arabella Figg, Dumbledore of course, and I myself are all acting as a secret protectors of this boy. It's no more excessive than the efforts to conceal and protect another boy – Remus Lupin - and his unspeakable condition. An entire house set aside for him - a magical tree brought in especially for him, Madame Pomfrey's complicity, and all of the Marauders, my forced silence - and again Dumbledore - all of us devoted to keeping him safe.

And where is Lupin now? One doesn't hear a word of him or read anything about him in The Prophet. He is on the run now. He would have to be. He is hiding, scratching a living off the Earth like a criminal. All that effort and still the school failed him.

Upon that realization I went off my head. I was still in the gray bedclothes but I did not care – I raced from my room in the direction of Dumbledore's Office. How dare he – I was not going to be a part of it. I was not going to fail her son. I knew we would do him more harm than good and I wanted out.

Again I forced my way into the room – again he was not in his office. This time I did not wait for an explanation from the portraits. I didn't want to hear it. The Staff Room. I thought he would surely be in there.

It was late. It must have been near midnight - so why I thought he would be in The Staff Room, I do not know - but I went there anyway. I lit my wand and stood in the middle of the dark room, calling out for him like a mad man. No human answered me, but suddenly with out warning – he - woke up.

His cries – the child – the swaddled infant in the painting woke up and began to cry. The horrible sound stole the breath from my lungs and I instantly collapsed - falling to my hands and knees on the floor of the room. The sound was unbearable. He cried and every scream that escaped that child was like a dagger in my chest and in my head – I clapped my hands to my ears to stop the agonizing sound from penetrating my thoughts but it was too late.

My eyes rolled back into my head – and it was happening – it was real. This. This moment – this was – and I knew it as the memory took me over. This was the terror that had held me hostage – this was what I had fought with every fiber of my being to forget – but he was screaming and crying and - I lost it.

I screamed.

I knelt on the floor - I screamed and I moved to cut myself – to tear open my flesh with Sectumsempra but it could never be enough – I pushed myself up from the floor and began to run - but it was real – it was happening -

It was early evening, the last night in October and the streets were full of revelers making their way to the Three Broomsticks. I stood, wrapped in a hood and scarf in the high street of Hogsmeade. Rodolphus himself approached me, "Severus," he was saying jubilant as ever I have seen him, "Did you hear – It's over! We've won – The Dark Lord is victorious! It was a Fidelius Charm, as was suspected. The Secret Keeper finally gave in and told him. The Dark Lord they say has already accomplished the act Severus! We've done it, tonight the tide has turned in our favor!"

At first I felt nothing, because it wasn't real. I stood still as stone facing him…his words merely passed through me like a ghost, ice cold and painful. It couldn't be real. But I knew… He walked away and I knew – because I realized that I knew where the house was - had I known all along? No… I hadn't –

- Oh dear God, if I know - then the spell has been broken!

I turned on the spot and Disapparated – in real life I was running through the halls of the school, slamming into walls – feeling the pain in my shoulders upon impact, stumbling, catching myself before I fell and continuing to run because there was no time – I had to get to her – I had to get to the house before it was too late. I had to get – out before – I had to get to her.

I ran through the streets but those streets were far less crowded than those of Hogsmeade. No one passed me as I ran through Godric's Hollow. I tore through a graveyard, through hedges and raced towards the house, stopping only when it came full into view, because – I saw it and already I knew – but he promised to -

In another life I was standing at a doorway and I knew where it would lead – I pushed it open -

She's… in there. I didn't cry because it couldn't be real. It was all happening too fast. I wasn't running anymore – I was walking because it wasn't real I was… I felt my feet upon the ground and I began to feel fear. When I reached the front door to the house, and saw it already open I felt more fear than I ever thought possible.

This was a dream – it had to be. Through the darkness all sound stopped – all but for one sound and it was all I could hear.

Outside the tower, the rain and wind were roaring, but I made no distinction for the sound was only that of

Of… and I was walking toward the sound because I knew, that if I could hear him crying – then something had gone wrong. I was shaking all over – one misstep and I would break it – but if I were to hesitate and not reach them in time – but he promised to -

I entered the house. I took one step onto the stairs and stopped dead. I looked down upon his bare feet and he stared up at me – limp and lifeless. All the times he had punched me as a child had not prepared me for the blow to my ribcage – nearly knocking me backwards and forcing me from the stairs.

James…

I – never wanted… I hated you – never in the darkest depths of my fury did I ever wish –

It was all I could do to keep my footing so as to avoid the desecration of his lifeless body as it lay -blocking my way up the stairs –

…those flashes of vision were real and not nightmares…

I was tripping up stairs, there were more of them – far more and I was running up the spiraling stairs in this life though I still – stepping gingerly as I reached the hallway.

But he lives – if he can cry – then the child lives! But something is wrong – is – he still here! Can I still stop him somehow and save her and the child?

My fear – my sickness told me otherwise. But he promised to -

I pushed open the door – the assault of frigid wind and searing cold rain tearing at my body -

I felt nothing. I felt only - because I pushed open the door to the room at the end of the hallway and -

The life left my body. There was no life left anywhere in the world and I was falling. I hit the ground hard but I was still falling… I would fall forever beyond the deepest places of this world, lost forever in the blackness of the void.

My eyes had not yet looked away, but I still… everything was spinning. The whole world was falling and spinning all around me in a terrible nightmare. This couldn't be happening – but it felt more real than anything I had ever experienced. The reality, the vision I could not escape -

She was dead.

I couldn't breathe. I was going to faint - only I couldn't. I could not escape the excruciating truth – the constant realization repeating with every rotation of the space… She's dead – he killed her.

Dead. She lay lifeless on the floor before me. Her eyes. I couldn't bear the sight. The most vibrant apple green eyes whose light never failed to send warmth throughout my body and soul when she looked at me. Her eyes... Vacant. They stared lifelessly into the empty spaces – two gemstones who's light had been stolen.

The light that I had destroyed… Gone - for there was no light left anywhere on Earth, in Heaven or in Hell. The darkness – and I was falling forever.

I reached out to her to break my fall but instead I slid the rest of the way down the wall - collapsing onto the carpet. Still I did not take my eyes from her where she lay just feet from me on the floor. My best friend, she's only a girl – a child who ran full of joy through the field to me. She was dead - but she couldn't be! We're best friends and we're in the playground and she is flying from swings and tree limbs like a dove! She cannot be dead or even harmed – she is magical - nothing can hurt her. She is flying - her red hair is caught in the sky - lit by the sun as if she herself is the sun. Spring, warmth, grass and flowers... Her laughter… how the whole room was on fire with her warmth and her spirit when she laughed…

But that spirit had gone from this world.

Lily-

I called out to her again and again – but her voice was gone. She would never answer me. She would never speak again. I would never hear her voice or her laughter – ever again!

I screamed and cried incoherently.

What have I done? Lily… What have I done to you! My love. My angel - what have I done to you? All I could feel was the void - the excruciating ache in my chest where my heart had once been. Lily. I crawled to her – as I crawled across the rain soaked stones.

The howling wind - His cries…

Lily – My poor Lily. She seemed so cold. Was she hurt? I knelt above her, looking down at her face as I tried so hard to comprehend… I couldn't take it all in. I tried to move, but I couldn't. My body had become as frozen as her eyes and I felt a terrible urge to reach out to her - but something seized me within for no matter how hard I tried I could not do it. To touch her would break the spell that suspended us in the moment that might not have been real – though I knew all to well that it was. I feared so to feel her skin. One touch would confirm it… If I were to just look upon her, if I did not touch her… she might only be stunned.

At that I lost it. I was burning – I loved her too much. I couldn't bear the thought of her cold, injured or in pain. If she had been stunned – I had to help her! With trembling hands I reached out to stroke her hair. The instant I touched her - my stomach dropped and I pulled back my hand screaming.

It was her! It was Lily - but she was dead. She felt dead. Her hair, it was soft and felt just as it always had but her skin – it was so cold… Tears poured from my face as I bent towards her. What have I done... I wrapped my arms around her lifeless limbs and lifted her close to my chest. I had to hold her – I couldn't bear the pain – not mine – and not hers… I held her in my arms, but I couldn't feel her. I felt nothing but the searing pain of what I'd done!

Why did I ever leave you!

My cries matched his. We were two lost children and we were both screaming in agony for her. Two lost children, but I was no innocent child. I was the demon who'd done it. Every scream that escaped him rang in my head tore and down my spine - shattering me from within.

I crushed my eyes and tried to shut out the sound and the guilt… I held her tighter. I buried my face in her hair. My arms and my chest ached from within as I cradled her in my arms – I couldn't let go.

I knew what I was doing was wrong - I knew it but I couldn't let go. What else was there left in the world but her cold, lifeless body in my arms?

The baby. He was crying for her but she would never reach out to comfort him again. It was tearing me apart. I knew how horrible it was for me to hold her – for me not look to the child… But how could I dare touch him with my tainted hands! I was the monster who had killed his mother! I was the monster who desecrated her body before him while he cried for her to help him! I didn't dare touch that child. I was sick with myself for even thinking such a thing.

I held her with all the strength that I had. My own body was growing cold and rigid, as if rigor mortis was to soon take me over as it had her. I wish that it had taken me - but I heard them. The voices outside – voices I had heard in another life...

It was over.

The world was over. The angels had come to claim her. They had come to take her to Heaven - away from me. They would take her away to where I could no longer harm her – to a place where I could no longer hold her - hear her laughter or see the light in her eyes, and I knew what I had to do.

I had to let her go.

I laid her as gently as I could onto the floor. I brushed her hair back form her face and folded her hands over her chest. I knelt to kiss her forehead, and I could barely do it for how hard as I was crying. I stroked her face again to remove my tainted tears from her cheeks. I took one last look at what I had always known to be the most beautiful sight in all the world. The last peaceful moment… The final graceful vision I will ever see for what remains of the rest of my life, for I knew I would never see again – anything. I placed my hand over her eyes, and closed them forever.

I choked on my tears as I closed my own eyes. I couldn't bear to look upon the image any longer – I had to run.

I backed away, my hands fumbling frantically behind me for the door –

You'll be all right little one. They will come for you and take you away from me – no more monsters will come for you, for I will be gone. I will never be able to harm you again – for I will be dead.

I ran from the room and down the hallway to flee the house. I had to kill myself – for I will never harm anyone else ever again.

I reached the top of the stairs and staggered back as I heard the sound of the voices again. The recognition of them flashed before me – Hagrid – Black. Sirius - oh dear God that it would be you to see first what I have done… I gripped the banister with off of my might as it hit me – he was right about me. All of the terrible, evil things he ever accused me of – and just as I tripped down two more steps – I nearly fell over James! Oh God James. I covered my mouth to keep from screaming as I stepped over his body once more. What have I done to you! I tore through the house and pushed open the back door just as I heard him crash through the front door –

I didn't want to hear his cries as he looked upon his best friend lying dead upon the stairs. I didn't want to hear Sirius cry, but I did…

Through the garden, out past the wall and into the darkness of the trees beyond - I Disapparated. There was still one last thing I had to do before I destroyed myself. Dumbledore!

You failed them – you were supposed to keep them safe!

But he wasn't in his office or the Staff Room earlier. He was gone. And I wasn't in the woods, I wasn't in the office and I wasn't in The Staff Room. I was standing in the pouring rain on the roof of the castle.

The wind and rain tore at my hair and the thin fabric of the gray bedclothes. Within seconds they were soaked through to my skin. My bare feet were slipping on the wet stones as I made my way… I clung to an eve as the violent gust of wind threatened to pull me away from the ledge before I could make it to the edge.

The rain – the wind - the baby crying for his mother – it was all my fault. I was not going to fail him again.

I let go.

I let the arms of the wind and the storm take me. I was falling – I closed my eyes, the darkness and I –

"Aresto Momentum!"

I wasn't going to fail him.

Harry. His image had flashed before my eyes – his life, not mine – and I stopped myself. I stopped myself from falling at that last second because of him. He needs me. I finally understood – I have to be the one. I have to - because I - care. I do still have a heart and I do still care – about him.

I will always love her. Nothing will ever change that. And yes, I will always harbor an intense hatred of James, but I am not so heartless… the baby. I can't quite explain it – but I feel so tied to the boy. I will not fail him.

I released my self from the lock of the spell. Five feet still separated my body from the ground below. The impact wasn't nearly hard as it would have been on any other day, for all the rain had softened the earth… just as the water in Slytherin will heal me – the water collected from the rain had protected me. I only really hurt my hands and one of my knees.

I was shaking like a leaf when I first tried to stand. I was scared, all I could think about was how lucky I was to be alive. What had I almost done?

I walked cautiously back to my room. I felt so fragile, as if one mistake would cause my body to break. I had to stay alive. I had to make it back to my room because Rodolphus was wrong, Crouch is wrong – they all have it wrong. There's still a war to fight - they just don't know it. Even Dumbledore can't see. I have to be the one to do this. While they fight – I will only pretend to take up arms and go through the motions - for I will be completely devoted to keeping him safe. I will find some way…

I knew at least what I had to do first when I got back to my room. Heat. I had to light a fire or I would surely go into shock. I will have to take care of myself if I am to care for him. I understood this the night before I began teaching – but I'd forgotten in the wake of everything that has happened since. I will not forget again.

And that's it – as awful as it was to have remembered all that which I fought so hard to forget – now I know. I will never forget – and now there is nothing to fear. My worst fears have been already been realized. I have nothing to lose. My only fear now is that I will fail him. If I have learned anything from the horrible shameful thing that I nearly did – it is that I do still care. I want to live. I want to do this – with all of my heart.

It is nearly dawn. The rain has already lessoned, and soon enough the sun will return. It does not matter that I have not slept, or that I nearly killed myself just a few hours ago… After all – when I was a student, I frequently attended classes after many long drunken nights - is this really any different? Of course it is, but for now I will have to tell myself that it isn't... I have to be strong and teach my classes.

For too long I have lived in the shadows hiding behind a wall of my own apathy. I was blind for too long. No longer will I stand by and let things happen. I have to learn to see beyond my own suffering.

I will not play dead in my crawl space any longer.

But there's more to it still – for I am sitting here still soaked in the clothes Madame Pomfrey gave me. Only now, in the face of what I nearly do I fully understand it…

I cannot do this alone.

If I am going to do this, I am going to need to trust someone – even if I never fully act upon it. I can never truly confide in anyone, but still I need to believe in something other than myself. I cannot do this alone. It was Hubristic to believe that I could. How I reacted to everything last night is proof of this…

To have gotten so upset even on that night was wrong - Madame Pomfrey was only trying to help. I will try with all of my heart to trust her, McGonagall and even Sprout. I liked them when I was a student. Have I not spent all this time cursing myself for what I did to Tisiphone? I too late to see her or Horace for who they truly were, but it is not too late for McGonagall, Sprout and Madame Pomfrey.

It is not too late for Harry. He is alive. An entire generation of students will soon wake up and walk through the halls of this castle... It's not too late for them. There is still hope. There will always be hope. I'm going to clean myself up now and join everyone in The Great Hall.

I can do this…

~Friday 26 November – Noon The Potions Class Room

They have left, my students. I managed to teach them, and in return, they did well in their lessons. I was tired, but I was otherwise calm and focused throughout the day.

I made it a point to look for Swanhilde this morning in the Great Hall. She sat with a group of girls smiling and laughing. She was fine. As I watched her, I realized something. For her to be attacked in such a way, she must have had a reason and the will to stand up to the others. She is stronger than I had given her first credit for.

So that is six people then. Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, Madame Pomfrey, Andre, Elisa and Swanhilde. I am not alone.

While I taught today I did my best to learn the names of my students. I still don't know how many of them are rebelling behind my back, but for now I am not concerned. Andre and Elisa will look after the other students for the time being. I am not worried, for they are far more equipped to do so than I.

Perhaps there will come a day when I can care for the students, as do they – and I can strive for that, but at the moment I need to focus on maintaining my own sanity. It is selfish, but I must consider the long run – and what is best for him. I'm not ready to take on a sea of students. I know so little of what it takes to look after others. After what my father did to me as a child – what the students did to me in school and the horrors I have seen as an adult - it will be some time before I learn to live –

- But I swear to you Harry, I will learn how to live and keep you safe. I will not fail you.

And there it is. The day is nearly done… Being that it is Friday, I will have to meet with Dumbledore as promised. I am not afraid. I am almost glad to be seeing him tonight after last night. And though it will likely be very difficult for me, I am going to have to try and trust him somewhat as well…


	13. Chapter 13

~Friday 26 November – My Room Night. 

Just back from Dumbledore's Office. It could have been far worse. An unexpected topic of conversation, but all things considered, that was not nearly as upsetting it normally is…

I waited until some time after dinner, and then I ascended the stairs to his office. Less than twenty four hours ago, I raced up those stairs consumed by madness. It felt as if that had happened weeks ago as I walked slowly up to the landing tonight. I reached the door.

"There you are Severus," Dumbledore said glancing up from his papers as I entered the room. "I was beginning to think you were going to miss our weekly meeting."

"I had no intention of missing it," I told him. I tried hard to discern the meaning behind his words, for there was something in his voice… something to his concern that I might not have appeared before him tonight that unnerved me.

"Well I'm glad to hear that," in the midst of his sentence, Dumbledore had been distracted by something in the piles of parchment strewn about his desk. He began reading again, seeming deeply entranced by whatever it was.

At was at first unsure of the protocol for what was to be our weekly meeting. He had made no invitation for me to sit down as he normally would, so I remained upright, standing just behind the empty set of chairs.

"Please forgive me," he said after a few moments of silence. He stacked a few of the lose pages then pushed them aside. "I'm afraid I have once again, been far too preoccupied by Ministry business this week. Please, sit down."

I did. Again Ministry business. So much has happened to our world. I kept thinking this as I observed the staggering number of documents and books placed upon his desk. So much has been put upon him, and he has been called away nearly every day since… it happened. I have been so upset and wanting him to help me, but I am only one person in a vast community of people who need him.

The Ministry is incompetent at best. Their only answer to the troubles of these dark days has been a series of show trials and a traumatic publication in _The Daily Prophet_. Finally, sitting in his office, I understood - its _Dumbledore_. He is the one who has held everything together. The weight of the Wizarding World has been placed upon his shoulders alone, and I have expected too much from him for myself.

Is there anything I can do to help is what I should have asked him, for I finally felt terrible for my lack of action, both in the past and in the present. All I managed was, "Sir, is there anything you need from me in particular on this night?"

He folded his hands over his desk and smiled at me, "As a matter of fact Severus, I thought we might discuss the issues of the post and your payment."

"Payment?" What? "You mean to pay me?" I had never even considered such a thing.

"Yes, of course! I've already had your first payment transferred to your vault at Gringotts." he was laughing again "Certainly, I mean to pay you as I do all of the other professors."

"But I am not like all of the other professors -" I'd done it. I'd made reference to the circumstances surrounding my appointment and in doing so I'd broken the fragile balance of what had otherwise been a peaceful conversation.

Dumbledore's expression changed instantly. He wasn't angry, but he had stopped laughing and had suddenly become deadly serious. "You are _exactly_ like all of the other professors and must appear that way Severus. However, with respect to your payment, I must insist that you first clear with me, any purchases you intend to make."

"Sir," I interrupted, though I had spoken in surprise and not anger.

"In addition," he said to cut me off, "I will also be inspecting any mail which you receive or send. And when you do leave this school, you will do so with a chaperone. Either I myself, or someone of my choosing will accompany you. Do I make myself clear?"

At first I was speechless. "And what exactly is it that you believe I will do? Do you think I will be tempted to buy materials to be used for the Dark Arts – is that it? Do you trust me so little that you would even read my letters!?"

"Severus, it's not that I don't trust you," he began slowly, "The fact of the matter is, that at this time, I don't feel your judgment can be trusted."

I had been deeply hurt by his words, "How can you say that?" I pleaded with him, "Is that not the same thing?"

He looked straight at me, "Were you not on the Astronomy Tower last night with the intention of taking your own life?"

I was speechless. Fumbling for words I finally managed, "You knew… you knew – how could you have known - "

"The portraits, the ghosts…" he said softly, "There are many occupants of this castle, and while I cannot be here at all times to look after you, they are. Severus, I hope you understand just how immensely tragic it would have been if you had succeeded."

I stared passed him, nodding just slightly for I was far too consumed by guilt to do anymore than that.

He rose from his desk and walked out from behind it, "Severus, as I have said to you before, that is no way to honor her memory nor is it any way to atone for what you have done." He crossed the room to the chair where I sat and stood beside me. "You stopped yourself," he said. And he was kneeling. He was actually kneeling beside me.

"Severus," he said placing his hand on mine, "You stopped yourself, and that – not the act, is what you must always remember. Do you understand me?"

"Yes." I managed.

"Good," he said, "Now what was it? What was it that made you stop? You don't have to tell me. You have only to remember for your own sake, what it was that kept you from destroying yourself last night. Do you know what it was?"

"Yes."

"Then I want you to hold on to that." And he stood up, "You made a promise Severus. I understand this is a difficult time for you. But now the time has come for you to be strong. Now matter how powerful the temptation may be, you must not choose to take the easy way out. I trust you Severus, I trust your deepest intentions, but it's going to be a while before I allow you free reign. I will be keeping a very close watch over you for the time being. Can we agree to this?"

What could I say to that? How could I argue with him after all I had done, "Yes," I said.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said walking back to his desk, then he turned back and said, "And Severus, if you ever find yourself in such a state again, I must ask that you come to me or at the very least find some one else in whom you can confide."

"I will," I told him - even thought I had already come to that conclusion earlier today. Somehow it did make me feel better to know that he cared - even if it was for the sake of the mission. I had no choice but to accept all of the forced surveillance. I detest it, but at the very least it means that I will not be entirely alone... I think now that I want more than anything to not be alone. So I agreed - to everything.

We said no more after that and he allowed me to leave. So now I am back in my room, and looking back upon our meeting I realized – it really was an upsetting meeting. I just tried very hard not to let it upset me.

I think I will read for a little while. Already I can see from the cover of _The Prophet_ that Rookwood was convicted. I think I won't be able to read much more that the first page. I am so tired. It's been a very long set of days…

~Saturday 27 November – My Room Night, the sky is clear.

I slept like the dead. When I woke up this morning I was still wearing the pajamas Madame Pomfrey had given me and it occurred to me – I never even thanked her. To make matters worse, there was tear just over the knee. I don't know if it was from the fall itself or from my many collisions with the walls on the way up to the roof of tower - but it upset me. I suddenly realized how much they meant to me – they had been a gift. It has been years since anyone had given anything to me…. so I made it a point to repair them.

Then I looked to the box in which they had come. It was still lying on the floor of my room where I'd left the thing. I'd never even bothered to read it - but as I picked up the box and saw it, I remembered the note.

"Severus,

I know it isn't much, but I wanted you to have these. Please understand, that while I may often turn a blind eye and pretend not to notice things for the sake of keeping peace… that this does not mean that I do not see things. It certainly does not mean that I do not care. If you ever need anything, even just to talk, I will be here.

-Poppy"

I sank to my knees and nearly cried. It was the kindest thing anyone has said to me since I can remember.

After that I immediately cleaned myself up and went straight to The Hospital Wing. I had no idea what I was going to say to her, but I had to say something. After all, I promised myself I would look to her for hope. Dumbledore had even asked me to do such things and I knew for once he was right.

When I reached the door, still uncertain of what to say. When I entered the room however, I found only Claudia - the Healer who had been with her on that night. I froze for a moment, but she simply smiled at me and nodded.

"Pardon my intrusion," I said to her, for she had clearly been busy, carrying a large bundle of clean bandages across the room, "Is Madame Pomfrey here?"

"Yes, she is still here. She is finishing up some paper work in her office, just over there," she pointed towards the half open glass doors and smiled at me again before she went back about her business. I was so grateful to her for not bringing up my behavior on that night.

I was about to knock on the office doors, but Madame Pomfrey saw me first. "Hello Severus. Is everything all right?" She was smiling when she said this, despite the amount of paper work she had been practically buried in. The piles of parchment on her desk were almost as large as those on Dumbledore's. In all my years as a student I had never once considered the fact that she would have had so much clerical work to do after she'd patched us up.

I had been staring for too long as I realized once again just how naïve I had been. As a result of this my response was delayed, "Yes, I wanted to thank you," I practically stammered, "-for giving me the pajamas, and - to apologize. I should have come sooner, but I – yesterday, the whole week I - "

"Oh you don't have to apologize!" She cut me off. Either she knew, or like everyone else she was trying to avoid the subject we all wished so desperately not to speak out loud. "I understand, its been… a long set of weeks for everyone. In fact I should be apologizing to _you_, I had meant to send you those much earlier but it completely slipped my mind what with all that's been going on. I'm so sorry! And of course when I saw you so upset yesterday I – well, again I apologize. Are you feeling better now? I was worried about you?"

"Oh, yes I…" So many times had I stumbled over my words in one conversation, and yet for once I felt at ease to do so. It seemed as if with her I did not have to perform. "I was just concerned after what had happened to Swanhilde."

"Of course you were, but she was fine. Just a _nasty_ prank by some bratty boy, or so she told me... But she was very brave while she was here - no tears. I had her fixed up in no time. You've no need to worry after her now. But how are _you_? It must be tough, taking over in the middle of the term - especially at your age. I certainly don't envy you!"

"It's…" I struggled for what to say to her. I couldn't trust her to tell her the truth, I swore I would never fully confided in anyone, but I needed - at the very least to talk to someone. "…It's been a very long two weeks."

She laughed. I smiled - after all it was almost funny. "Well," she said, still laughing a little, "I remember my first day as a Healer. I wasn't much older than you are now, but I can recall it as clear as day. I was shaking like a leaf! Do you know Severus, I fainted _three_ times on my first day alone!"

Her!? I could never have pictured it. Nothing ever rattles her. She was always so sharp witted and completely in control no matter what horrific thing had happened – but there she was letting her guard down, laughing and sharing stories with me.

"Well, I came very close several times, but…I haven't fainted yet." Though I'd spoke the truth, I answered her in sarcastic tones. We were both laughing. Not a lot, but still it felt amazing, because I can't really remember the last time I really laughed. For all I know it's been years. It was sort of like a release, almost like crying, but in a way better.

"So are you headed straight to the match from here?" she asked, and suddenly I was completely lost.

"What match?" I had no clue what she'd meant for a moment, but finally the lights turned back on. "You mean there's a Quidditch Match today? I hadn't planned on going - "

"Severus! It's _your_ House I should hope you would be going!" She was smiling but all I could think was great – now she will think me completely mental.

"I honestly had no idea there was even a match today," I confessed.

She sighed, and her joy vanished as it so frequently does from people these days. "Well, that's right, it wasn't supposed to be held today. And you wouldn't have known because you hadn't begun teaching yet. As you know, the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch Match is typically held the first weekend of November but, this year… it was postponed"

"Oh," there was nothing more to say then. We both knew the time had come to quickly change the subject - so I did it, "Are _you_ going straight to the match from here?"

"Yes, I had planned on skipping breakfast in the Great Hall to finish some work here. I did make some tea, would you like some?" She asked me this but was already upon her feet and on her way to bring me tea.

I thanked her - then she suggested that I stay and chat with her a while, afterwards we would both leave for the match together. I was so taken aback by this. I was tempted to say no - for what could I possibly say to her in conversation. And yet I could not possibly refuse such a kind offer. There was nothing to fear I told myself, so I just did it... I sat with her, had tea, and we talked.

It was actually quite nice - and also very intense, for I am not accustomed to so much conversation… not anymore. We spoke of minor things – nothing traumatic, just the change of seasons and the house cup victories since I had left school… two Gryffindor victories and one Ravenclaw.

After an hour we left for the match together, and when we arrived at The Pitch she suggested that I sit beside her. I was really glad to have someone to sit with. Had I come alone I would certainly have remained that way, and would have felt very awkward if I had been forced to find a place to sit on my own. I wondered if I would have even thought to sit in the stands with the professors, or if I would have simply remained with the students in the Slytherin stands.

After a few moments Professor O'Malley and a man I had never seen before joined us in the stands. She introduced herself to me, as we had never been properly introduced. Then she presented the man at her side and explained that he was her husband Daniel. He was visiting her for the weekend. She told me that he had made it a point to visit her on the weekend of the match. They had both been players on the Gryffindor team when they were in school. This is how they had met and fallen in love.

They seemed fairly young, either in their late twenties or early thirties. I suspected the latter for I don't really recall having seen either of them while I was in school. I also couldn't help but notice the scars and burn marks that ran down the side of Daniel O'Malley's face and onto his neck. Madame Pomfrey later explained to me that he was an Auror, her exact words were, and "He was attacked by a man called Mulciber."

I don't know if she had meant the father or the son, but she worded her statement as if she had not known of our former friendship - which of course she _had_ known. Everyone knew. It was an awkward moment, and yet the conversation was far less awkward than it would have been if she had brought up our past connection. Its true what she had said in her note – she does hold her tongue to keep the peace.

It was the same way when we were in school. I can remember waking up in the Hospital Wing in my seventh year. I was so sick and exhausted - drunk and stoned off of God knows what… Its funny, at the time, I though I was sick from the effects of Tisiphone's venom. I was such a mess. I honestly believed that she was out to get me for some reason. I was such an idiot. To think on it now, I doubt her venom had any effect at all.

Either way, I was in violation of countless school rules, and yet Madame Pomfrey asked very few questions of me. She was no fool, she knew alcohol and other contraband substances had been involved, but she just patched me up and let me go. I didn't appreciate this at the time. I won't make that mistake again. What she had written to me – she meant it. She really does care.

As we sat watching the match she was cheerful - not overly enthusiastic but she was enjoying herself. McGonagall on the other hand was reserved for the first half of the match, but by the end - she was almost as rowdy as the students! I knew she had once played Quidditch, but I had _never_ seen that side of her! It was downright shocking. Everyone just laughed, "She's always like this!" Madame Pomfrey explained. Was she really?

Of course I was the least spirited of everyone... I never cared about Quidditch. I was always so upset by his actions on The Pitch, but this time - I kept experiencing pangs at the thought of his absence. I could feel the panic creeping up from deep within me, but I kept turning around to watch McGonagall shout, or simply left looking to Madame Pomfrey. It helped.

I looked out over The Pitch, but I didn't see any players that I recognized. The Slytherin team seemed to be made up of six and seventh year students – all male with one female seeker. I thought this strange, because I clearly recalled a young Seeker who should still have been on the team. Vrennon Stanhope had been regarded as a prodigy when I was in my seventh year. He was a second year - one couldn't forget that fact for that was all anyone talked about in the Common Room. "Vrennon Stanhope, the unbelievably gifted second year Seeker who could catch a Snitch blindfolded," that's what they all used to say - so where was he?

They needed him - they needed _something_. The team was dreadful. They were aggressive and forceful, but this they did with no purpose. They had no sense at all of what they were doing. The Seeker was doing a terrible job. Several times the Snitch passed right by her but she barely even took notice.

And what in God's name were the Beater's doing? They kept going after the other team's Beaters leaving the Seeker completely vulnerable to attack – even I know you would never do _that_. I mean, she was a girl – you would think that at least for Chivalry's sake they could have looked after her! It was appalling. No wonder she could never see the Snitch – she was so busy looking out for her own safely. What were those boys thinking?! If you're going to play dirty – at least do it for a _reason._ Knock the Chaser bearing the Quaffle off his broom - not the other teams Beaters who were not even near enough the Chasers to pose a threat…

Needless to say, Slytherin lost. I'm used to the disappointment and yet, I was so grateful for the distraction. I think I needed that match more than I realized – we all did.

I spent the rest of the afternoon walking about the woods. I came back to my room a while ago. I had intended to repair the rip in my pajamas, but after I thought on it - I decided to fix it with out magic. I sewed it by hand, so that I could still see the tear.

I did this so that I would never forget what I had almost done. I did it so that I would never do anything so foolish ever again. With each stitch I thought about Madame Pomfrey's written words and what McGonagall's had said to me regarding hope. I thought about Andre, Elisa and Swanhilde and how brave they had all been. I thought about Dumbledore, how he had behaved towards me last night, and about what he had said… about the reason I had stopped myself. Harry.

That's it, isn't it? I am the tear, and the stitches are all those in this castle who are holding me together - fragile as I am - pulled back together as a series of stitches so that I will be strong enough to do what I must? I don't know…

I am going to read for a while after I've taken a very, very long bath.

~Sunday 27 November – My Room Evening

I've just gotten back from The Great Hall, and though it has only been dark for a few short hours, I think I will go to sleep very soon.

Today, for the first time in ages I can say that absolutely nothing happened. I am so grateful for it. No nightmares, memories or tragedies… no Slytherin Rebellions, and nothing terrible in _The Prophet_ either. Today I was free to read and go for walks about the woods. It was colder today, and I have no coat that is fit to be worn around here. The one I had worn the past few years, well - not only is it ragged but it brings back too many bad memories.

I am content enough with the clothes Tisiphone Torchwood and Madame Pomfrey gave me. I'll stay in doors when it gets too cold, I can manage until about January. By then, Dumbledore will surely allow me to buy a warm coat, so I can begin to save up for that.

Tomorrow begins another week. I want to be well rested this time… Right, I'm going to sleep.

~Monday 28 November – Evening sky full of stars.

When I woke up this morning, I remembered – there is still one last thing to worry after. Avery's trial is scheduled for tomorrow. That meant I had to be extra focused today.

I had almost completed my first class when I found myself considering it. My free period. I was nervous, and yet I knew I had to try.

The class left the dungeons and I with them. I went to The Staff Room. I crept through the doorway, making as little noise as I could. Professor McGonagall sat alone grading papers. All the while the most beautiful music was playing on a nearby turntable. A woman sang such a haunting melody in the Italian tongue. I didn't want to talk over it. But, I really wanted to try… I took a few steps closer as quietly as I could – but she heard me and looked up from the exams she'd been reading.

"Oh it's you, I didn't the door. Come in, have a seat… don't mind me," she had already turned back around. So many papers to grade, perhaps I should be giving homework I thought. I looked around the room. I still had no idea what to say. I began to regret my decision. She is kind, but she still doesn't fully trust me - of that I am absolutely certain. I was about to leave, but I couldn't. The music was too captivating. Finally I no longer cared to speak with her, I just had to know…

"What are you listening to?" I asked her.

She barely even looked up at me. "An opera Severus."

I wasn't even hurt by her shortness - for my need to understand the song had grown so strong, "What is it about?

"A lot," she said in a huff. Had she said that because she didn't trust me, or because she thinks me an ignorant student who wouldn't understand?

"What is its name?" I pressed her.

She sighed and said, "Lucia di Lammemoor. I wouldn't expect you to understand my love for it. All those your age and your ignorance of Muggle music."

So it was the latter. Ignorance of Muggle music. If only she knew my love of Muggle music and my feelings over people who don't know…. So I asked her, "Are you more partial to Maria Callas, or Joan Sutherland?"

She literally dropped her papers onto the table as she looked at me – completely speechless.

"I may not have listened to it," I explained, "But I am not completely ignorant of the thing. I have read about operas, I just haven't had a chance to attend one or even hear the records."

She was still trying to process the fact that I actually knew what she was talking about, and I couldn't help but smile. "Severus I, I'm sorry." She shook her head, but didn't take her eyes from me. "Lucia di Lammemoor has been a favorite of mine for years. I was drawn to it of course because of the setting - "

"Scotland."

"Yes. But I find that it has the most beautiful music and I-" She stopped and looked at me for a moment, "Severus, would you like to borrow my records?"

"Perhaps," I hesitated for a moment because it felt wrong - but it was such a generous offer – and I did desperately want to listen to them. What was wrong with me? "Yes, thank you. That would be really nice,"

Suddenly that devious grin returned to her face. "I have a recording of both singers. You will have to let me know whom you prefer. From that we can determine the future of our friendship."

I couldn't help smiling again. "So that's how it's going to be is it?"

"That's how it's going to be," she grinned, cast the hover charms and handed me the records. "You may keep them as long as you like. I have other copies."

I took them, thanked her again and that's when it happened, because I didn't just say thank you, I said, "Thank you, Minerva,"

I called her Minerva. I hadn't meant to, I just… said it. It felt strange and yet, oddly appropriate. She didn't react badly to it. She didn't react to it at all, because to her it was normal.

She just said, "Your welcome Severus." And that was it.

We spoke further at lunch, nothing serious of course. We still must be cautious and avoid many subjects, but I'm slowly getting used to normal conversation. Pathetic, all the things I find difficult… but at least I am trying.

My afternoon class went well. I even tried to think of assignments to give them. Perhaps I will assign simple things after the holidays. I won't tax them yet. They still have a strong dislike of me and I don't want to upset them any further – particularly when one considers the current state of things.

Now I think I will play one of the records. I'm fairly certain of her preference already of course, but I want to make up my own mind on the matter. If we agree - we can discuss that, and if we disagree - I think it might be a great deal of fun to debate with her.

Oh. Right, Avery. Well, I'll worry about that tomorrow. I think… Maria Callas first – anything to take my mind from the matter…


	14. Chapter 14

~Tuesday 1 December – Late

Avery.

He was my first thought upon waking this morning. Today was the date of his trial. Today would find out...

I tried to shut him out of my mind, but I couldn't manage to do it. As I dressed for the day, I recalled all the times in my seventh year when I would get ready to attend the clandestine meetings with the Death Eaters long before I had even become one. It was Avery who had always fought so hard for our inclusion at such events. It was Avery who insisted we go - convincing us of how great it all was.

He wanted nothing more than to join the Death Eaters. It sounded so perfect at the time. We would be a part of something powerful. It sickens me to remember how much I wanted it. I sensed danger yes, but I saw it as a way of getting revenge upon all those who had slighted me. I would be a part of something - _finally_.

In truth I didn't care about their cause as much as the others. I wanted to believe... I wanted so much to believe in something. Still I couldn't help but to feel such doubt about it all. Avery spoke so highly of the Death Eaters - of_ him_, but I knew in the end it would be nothing more than a another empty just group as The Slug Club had been. Nothing more than people talking and showing off.

Avery's father - all of their fathers had been friends with him. Back then I only knew him then as the one in charge of the Death Eaters. I hadn't seen him yet, and I didn't understand the fascination. All I knew was that he had once worked for Borgin and Burkes.

Stupid. All of it was, me most of all. I knew no other life. They were the only family I ever knew. So when Avery extended the invitation, I gladly accepted.

I remember standing in my room - all those late Friday evenings in the dead of winter. How I would stare out the window - at what always it seemed to be the same sky. The burning red sunset as it cut through the icy gray clouds - only to be pierced by the bare limbs of trees as that sun sank lower, disappearing into the darkness of The Forbidden Forrest. We would soon follow, disappearing even further into those woods, just outside of Hogsmeade. Every time I felt such exhilaration and fear all the same at the thought of going - sneaking off school grounds and being with them... Every time I would wear the coat that she had given to me. I loved that coat, but in truth I had no choice but to wear it. I had to look a certain way...

For nearly seven years we had been friends and Avery had never once said a word about it. Once he began spending time in their midst - my blood status, my impoverished family and my clothing had become a problem.

I will never forget that conversation. Avery was talking excitedly about the upcoming meeting - it was to be our first one. Suddenly he stopped laughing – not completely but just enough to show me that he was serious. "Snape", he said to me, he was still smiling - just the way he would when he wanted to be charming, "I've been meaning to talk to you. You will always be one of us, and you're going with us of course, But…"

But my clothes…. but everything.

And then she stepped in, his cousin Tisiphone - Death Eater Fairy Godmother as it were... no, she was no more a Death Eater than Evan - that was a cruel thing to think. At any rate, she gave me the most exquisite black silk brocade coat for my birthday. It was far too beautiful a thing for me. I no longer have it. I'm fairly certain I left it in Spinner's End… with my mother. My poor mother...

By the time I'd reached the staff room I'd nearly forgotten Avery as I was so consumed by thoughts of my mother. It had been some time since I had really thought about her. I try not to. It is too painful to remember, for she was all but lost to me a long time ago.

She started to act differently when I was thirteen. I was frightened at first but I slowly began to realize that there had been signs for a long time - I just hadn't wanted to see them. I would try to spend more time with Lily. Just to look upon her sweet face was enough to lift my spirits...

I'd meet her in the playground or we would play by the river. I'd go to her house sometimes, but it always felt so wrong. Their home was so clean, and her mother and father were so friendly. It was so unlike my own home that it made me feel very uncomfortable. Even her rude sister - I never had a brother or sister...

Her parents were always kind to me, and though they would never say so - I could tell they didn't want me spending too much time with her. They accepted her magical ability, but it was different with me. Part of it I knew was just a father's reaction to my having been a boy - which in a way made me feel even more uncomfortable. In the end, even if they had invited me – I rarely stayed for dinner. I knew it wasn't right for me to stay. In a way, sometimes I feel I am glad that I did go home so often... Though I had not known it, my time with my mother had been running out.

By the time I was fifteen - my mother barely ever spoke. She listen to you, she'd nod and smile politely. Even though she was almost entirely mute, there was still life behind her eyes. That was over by the time I turned sixteen. She would spend hours just staring into space. I was angry with her for so long, because I wanted her to protect me. When she stopped talking all together, in many ways my feelings intensified. I tried to talk to her... I tried, but she never responded – not to me. He would come home from work or the bar – drunk, angry – it didn't matter. Her face would light up when he entered the room. No matter what the case, she would run to him - even though I tried to stop her…

Just another woman that I failed to protect.

And _that_ one... him. He screamed, spat, threw things, kicked doors… I once thought to fix the one through which he had kicked a hole, but I was too afraid of the consequences. So I went for years and years hating Muggles. Our people weren't like that. Lily wasn't, my mother wasn't. Why didn't I see the warnings in our kind? Did I really think that when Avery and Mulciber began threatening Tisiphone that things would end differently? Mary McDonald had it coming, so they said. I wasn't there, so I had to take them at their word. In those final weeks of school, Avery became almost indistinguishable form my father, kicking, screaming and making threats. We all came to fear him – Avery, his father, Lucius – Rodolphus, Evan's Father, Jocasta Carrow – the whole lot of them.

The older generation, was so proud of their young protégés – singing their praises as the years of the war progressed. Tales of their terror became legendary. The stories and the acts behind them were meant for everyone to hear - as a warning. Avery and Mulciber set an example of what would happen if one dared crossed The Death Eaters or The Dark Lord himself. There is not a witch or wizard who hasn't heard about Avery, standing by calm and collected - giving orders while Mulciber took his time with the family of a witch who once tried to defect.

He will get away with it. They always do. And if there was any doubt in my mind of this fact, my feelings were only reinforced by what was printed in _The Prophet_ this morning. Karkaroff was released from Azkaban yesterday. His freedom was bought by Friday's conviction of Augustus Rookwood. What exactly did Rookwood do? Could his guilt really have been any greater then Igor's? Was my guilt any less then those that I accused? This isn't justice - it is just plain sickening.

I was getting agitated. I knew I would have to control myself, so over breakfast I spoke with Minerva McGonagall about Saturday's Quidditch Match. I had the presence of mind at least, to not bring up her reactions, or her past when she was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team - so our conversation was subdued and peaceful enough to take my mind from Avery and my mother.

I taught my morning class and tried to ignore what was going on outside the walls of my classroom. It wasn't easy, and I wasn't entirely successful. At lunch I was painfully aware of Dumbledore's absence. But then I remembered - my afternoon class consisted of fifth year Slytherins and Gryfindors. Elisa Deverille and Andre Boyle would be present and I am always pleased to see them, but there was some one else I wanted to see even more...

When I got to the Potions Classroom, I searched through a stack of parchment looking for the class roster. I scanned the list and cursed myself for not bothering to ever take role - so unexperienced and unprepared I am - but as I neared the end of the names I found what I'd been looking for - Stanhope, Vrennon. So he is still here.

I let the class into the room. I thought to call role in order to find him, but then I realized how awkward it would be for me to do so after all these weeks of having not called role. I felt so foolish and ashamed, then suddenly I realized there was no need to call role - for there he was hiding in the back row. I'd never taken notice of him I suppose, because that beast of a girl with the auburn hair whom I have seen so often with Joan Ogden sits beside him. I've always done my best to avoid her horrid gaze. Vrennon had also changed quite a bit since my seventh year. His dark brown hair was much longer, and like me, he hung his head and hid behind his long locks. Yet - completely unlike me, he is still a decent looking boy. I was so puzzled, for he seemed to still have the athletic build of a Seeker and he didn't seem to be injured, so why wasn't he playing? He looked so despondent and then it hit me – dear God he's lost someone.

I gave the class their assignments and then took That issue of _The Prophet_ from the shelf where I'd been hiding it these past few days. It pained me to do it - to see her name again, but I had to do it. I read through every list of the missing and the dead... No Stanhopes listed anywhere. A friend perhaps? It could have been anyone. I felt sick as I walked out among the students. I checked on his Draught of Peace... He did as well as one could have expected for such a difficult brew, but when I told him he'd done well - he seemed almost as distant as my mother. Awful.

The class ended, and as usual Andre stayed late to ensure that all of the other students had cleaned up after themselves. I thought to ask him about Vrennon, but… perhaps another day. I didn't feel right doing so, for obvious reasons - and for reasons I am not fully able to explain. There is something about Andre I can't quite place. Something familiar - but he was never on the Quidditch team. I must have seen him in the Common Room when I was in my seventh year I suppose. They all look familiar - I don't know... It is all too much.

I knew it was wrong of me, but after he'd left, I went up to Dumbledore's office. It was still early, so I wasn't surprised when I entered the room and found it to be empty. Most of the portraits seemed to be present and pretending to sleep, but this time Phineas was gone. Of course, Nereus Avery was a Slytherin and so Phineas would want to witness the trial… So it was not yet over.

I was growing agitated. I paced about the room – I'm not sure what made me think of it, but the date came into my mind. December – it is December. It has been a month now. The familiar stabbing pains of guilt nearly caused me to fall to my knees, but just then I noticed Dylis looking down at me through one half closed eye. Dylis Derwent – I remember now, she defended me in those days when I sat, paralyzed by my grief.

I took several deep breaths to calm myself. Because of her, because of everything that had happened – I was determined to remain calm. Pacing his office was not helping me – not with a full audience. I went back to my room to wait for him.

I was too preoccupied to read, so I thought to play Joan Sutherland's "Lucia di Lammermoor". Just as Maria's version had done, the music eased my mind - taking the edge off of my anxiety. As I lay back across my bed, it occurred to me then how wrong it was that I had no books or records of my own. I had once owned books - I even had a few records... but I left nearly everything that I had owned in their house in Spinner's End - and I certainly cannot go back there. I'd hate to disturb her now. She has likely forgotten me completely. And if _he_ saw me now after all of these years… God I don't even want to know what he would do.

I was getting upset again, thinking of how ridiculous it all was. I could silence him, I could stun him - I could do far worse to him with a mere thought. I could do this. I am capable of it - I always was, but I never could do it when it mattered. After all, I failed time and again to properly defend myself against Potter and the others. Sometimes I think the only thing I know how to do in battle is to give up. That is all he ever taught me.

I was so upset with myself when a soaring note escaped her lips pulling me instantly from my spiraling fears and back into the present. I sat straight up in my bed. I was so captivated by the melody. Her voice – all of their voices. It was incredible - the six voices all coming together to form such a powerful harmony. It sent chills down my spine. The warmth of their voices wrapping around each other filled the room with heat and light. The tension between them - strings, the chorus all rising toward crescendo -

And I knew then what I had to do with my first payment. Forget the winter coat I had coveted - I must buy records. Books I can borrow from the library for the time being, but I cannot live with out music.

I listened to the whole of the first record and half of the second, telling myself I would leave the last half for when I returned from Dumbledore's Office – no matter what the outcome of the trial. The music still filled my head as I walked the stairs up to his office, -the melodies I do not yet fully know all blended together. It was actually quite lovely.

I knocked on the door. No answer, but as I pushed open the door, I found that Dumbledore was in fact in the office. "Sir"?

"Severus, forgive me I did not hear you knock. Please come in." He was being sincere. He nearly leapt up from behind his desk when he saw me.

"He got off, didn't he..." I looked down at the carpet. I kicked at the pattern as I had done so many weeks ago. I already knew after all. There was no point in holding my head up for the answer.

"I'm afraid so," he said solemnly, "He was cleared of all charges."

"What happened?" I only asked this in frustration - I even sounded like a child when I spoke for already I knew _that_ answer as well.

"There was quite a lot of evidence against Nereus Avery. As I'm sure you are aware, he often boasted of the crimes that he committed." Dumbledore sat down behind his desk and sighed heavily. He seemed upset for once. I had always assumed that like Crouch, he didn't care who was convicted. "It was a very long trial, both sides argued fervently for hours. In the end, Avery broke down. He was in tears as he told the Wizengamot that he had been under the Imperious Curse the entire time."

Oh dear God, "Mulciber."

"Yes," he said, finally looking up at me, "That is who blamed for having placed the curse upon him."

Of course he did. Because everyone knows how skilled Mulciber was at using the Imperious Curse. It was his specialty - they say he was one of the best. In turn, Avery was so gifted when it came to charming people into believing he was something that he was not. In one instant he is your friend, smiling and making jokes with you - and in the next instant he would be furious with you for having committed some trivial act you that never saw as offensive. Then he would scream insults and threaten you with Mulciber's brutality, because that is who he really was - an angry tyrant with no fuse.

Avery fooled everyone. His smiles were all an act, just as his tears before the Ministry had been. "So he is free now?"

"Yes, Severus." There was a pause after Dumbledore had spoken after which I am sure he was expecting me to question him further about the fate of Nereus Avery.

I was expecting the same thing myself, but the next words that escaped my lips had nothing to do with Nereus Avery. "Sir, I was wondering if perhaps you might permit me to make a few purchases."

He raised an eyebrow at me - clearly I had caught him off guard. "Certainly Severus, what is it that you need?"

What is it that I need? He would have been expecting me to ask for books or potion ingredients. He would expect me to ask for clothing or at least a new set of cauldrons. How would he react when I ask him for records, I thought. I was already on probation with him for all that I had done. Surely, to ask such a childish request of him would have been highly condemned. But since he already did not trust me, what more did I have to lose?

"Sir, with your permission," in shame, my already quiet voice dropped to a whisper, "I would like to purchase a few records from a shop in Muggle London… if you will accompany me…"

Dumbledore's face broke into such a grin as I had not seen from him years. "Severus, I am delighted to hear you ask that. Music is a form of magic that transcends all manner of people and creatures. It is more powerful than any spell the greatest witch or wizard could ever conjure. I would gladly accompany you. In fact, it has been some time since I myself have purchased Muggle records and I think that it is high time that I do."

Why was I surprised by his reaction? It was so like Dumbledore to respond in such a way. It took me a moment to notice it, but I was smiling. "Thank you sir."

Still grinning from ear to ear, with the enthusiasm of a schoolboy he said, "Would tomorrow be a good day for you? We can meet here after your classes have finished for the day."

Not only was he going to allow me to purchase records, he was allowing me to do so the next day... I thanked him and agreed to meet him in his office tomorrow.

I am back in my room now. I have been listening to "Lucia", and what impeccable timing I have because it is nearly time to put on the third and final record. There, I feel sorry for Muggles. It must be irritating to not have the use of Hover charms. I can't imagine having to get up every time one needs to turn over the record. How that must break up the continuity…

The Mad Scene - and with it the tension in the music is powerful enough to touch with one's outstretched hands… Sadly, this is such a fitting backdrop for all that has occurred. "Lucia di Lammermoor" is a tragedy after all. The images of the action on stage fill my head. Yet even as they do - I feel I can see reality all the clearer. Avery was freed from the fate of an Azkaban prisoner, and yet – he is not at all free. Not after what he has done. He blamed _Mulciber - _he betrayed his best friend!

I hated having to lie about Evan during my trial. I hate myself for having blamed him for Avery's cruel actions. I was forced to do so as per Dumbledore's orders - but there is no way Avery was told to name Mulciber - not when Mulciber's father was one of the people who had been attempting get him acquitted. How could Avery _willing_ do such a thing after what passed between them? Avery ordered Mulciber around, and he in turn obeyed Avery's every command. How would Mulciber respond if ever he was ever set free? He is one of the least forgiving people I have ever met! Mulciber was Avery's strength, what could he possibly do in the face of a vengeful William Mulciber?

Even now - what power does Nereus have with out Mulciber? None. He _wept_ to secure his release. He displayed a profound weakness in the face of his father and Mulciber's father - all of them. I am certain his actions were not a part of their plan at all. They will be angry with him over this for a very long time. With out the older generation behind him, with out Mulciber acting as his arm – he has nothing left.

I do not feel sorry for him. In fact am darkly satisfied by this turn of events. And did I not feel sorry for Mulciber just a few days ago? What sympathy I once had for him is gone. I hope he does suffer. I hope Azkaban turns him all the more vicious. I hope he finds out. I hope he gets out one day, for he will surely exact his revenge on Avery. Let my enemies devour one another…

Poor Lucia - used mercilessly by her brother, driven to madness… Lost to the blind hatred of all the terrible men around her. Lost. Just like all of the women that I ever cared about – and I one saw until it was too late –

It's not too late - I must remind myself of this. Minerva McGonagall. I have made up my mind. Tomorrow – we can speak at length about our preferences. There. Today was not a total loss.

No, I am wrong. There has been a loss - the most unbearable loss of them all... for it has been one month. One month gone. Four weeks gone. Thirty one days gone. Would that it were me...

Lily. Forgive me.

How dare I ask such a thing - or even to think upon her. I must not - for if I allow my thoughts to stray, I will fall apart.

~Wednesday 2 December – Early Morning, cold bright sunlight

I just woke up from the strangest dream. The images were so lush and so vivid. Even now it all seems so real. Again, the opera... all of us were the characters but there was something odd to it. Avery was Enrico, which makes such perfect sense for he was a controlling barbarian of a brother, only Avery was her cousin. In that sense then, Tisiphone as Lucia made sense as well - but Evan as Arturo and myself as Edgardo, that made no sense to me at all. But still there is something to it that I can't quite… no.

It was only a dream. It was nice though, even though I know how it would have ended. All right. Today I finally will have something pleasant too look forward to, so long as I overlook the fact that I will have Dumbledore holding my hand the whole time… Once the act is done, I will have music back in my life. I will have friends…

~Wednesday 2 December – Late Night in My Room

"Misty Mountain Top," Why? I had no intentions of actually listening to "Led Zeppelin IV" when I bought it this evening, but as it was with her – I could not resist.

Today was intense. Not in a bad way - but the level of intimacy between myself and others - even just a few words is enough to overwhelm me…

The paper this morning greatly upset me as well. Avery's face of course graced the cover. Sickening. He smiled, being that he was a free man. I looked at his hands – his _unshackled_ hands. I thought about Mulciber in his bindings and then I saw it – or rather, I did not see it. The serpent ring. He wasn't wearing it. I had a thought - I was almost certain of my suspicions. Still I ran to the library to check the old copy of _The Prophet_ before class. Sure enough, Mulciber as well was not wearing his ring – _our_ ring. The six silver serpent rings that Evan had stolen for us… Evan always wore his, Wilkes and Tisiphone I know never took theirs off either. I myself, though I hate wearing jewelry frequently wore mine. It meant so much to me to be a part of something.

Why had those two stopped wearing their rings? The Serpent holding it's tail in it's mouth – it was a symbol of Slytherin. It was our House - it was everything.

Of course they stopped wearing them. Their loyalty changed. Their loyalty to the skull and the serpent burnt upon their arms was far stronger than any ties they had to our group. Once Evan and the rest of us had shamed them - they would have wanted to distance themselves from us as much as possible.

Just before we left school, the older generation and The Dark Lord gave us all orders. Those of us deemed too low born or weak were given the petty task of spying or thieving. We weren't meant to succeed - or even do much. We were just pawns while Avery and Mulciber were raised to the higher ranks. They were the ones who carried out acts of kidnapping... and worse. The older generation did little more than give orders and funds to "the cause." They drank elf made wine while everyone else... I can't.

I can not think upon the past. I must function in the present. Still - the ring. I never thought of it until now, but perhaps I should stop wearing mine. People might mistake it as a symbol of The Dark Lord. To the simple minded, serpents are a sign of evil but they are wrong. Serpents are not the monstrous beings that recent cultures have made them out to be. They are healers and they are guardians - graceful creatures completely in tune with the rhythms of the earth... They share bonds with the ancient mother goddesses of countless cultures. My ring – a perfect circle of a serpent around my finger – ties me to that and to my friends who have died. But now that Avery has been set free – he will see it as my continued loyalty to Evan, or worse - it might remind him that he once had a female cousin.

I must never wear my beloved ring again. No one can know my true feelings on anything. The ring expresses far too much no matter what one reads from the thing. Still, I must think of some way to keep it with me…

At least my classes were not much more than a minor irritation today... My N.E.W.T. class in particular is getting on my nerves. At first I was so focused on the antics of Joan Ogden and her cohorts, but now I see beyond that. Now I see their stupidity. There are far too many students studying at the N.E.W.T. level who cannot even properly brew a Girding Potion. To add insult to injury - Joan of all the students is the worst. Why is she here in such an advanced class!?

I hate it. She, like most of the others I am certain got into this class on bribes - others flattery and some surely were an oversight. Horace… Why would he suffer such imbeciles every year? Were the family connections _really_ that useful?

At lunch I returned the records to Minerva McGonagall with many thanks. She had hardly taken them from my hands when she asked, "Well?"

Moment of truth, but their was only one truth, "Joan Sutherland."

Her eyes narrowed. I smiled. She didn't believe me. "Why Severus," she said. It wasn't even a question - it was a demand for a reason.

"Her voice is just so much richer. Maria's voice is incredible, there's not denying it. She glides so effortlessly from one note to the next. But Joan – she emotes in such a profound manner. She puts her whole heart into every phrase – she _means_ it. She isn't acting, she becomes Lucia. Her coloration is so beautiful, her vocal ability is so strong and yet even still - it's secondary to the _feeling_." Oh dear God. Did I just gush in front of Minerva McGonagall?

Her face hadn't changed. She was still smiling as wide as ever. What? Say it woman! Finally she shook her head and looked away. "Severus," she said finally, "I see no reason why we cannot be perfectly civil to one another."

"So," I looked at her trying to discern the thoughts behind her cunning smile, "What does that mean?"

"It means of _course_ I prefer Joan Sutherland!" She laughed, and then straightened herself up, resembling the stern professor I had known her for as she looked out over the students. And suddenly she wasn't looking at the students – she was looking far past them at a scene I could not see. She smiled serenely as she took in what ever it was that she saw. "The first time I heard 'Lucia Di Lammermoor'," she began dreamily, "it was at Covenant Garden. Joan Sutherland was singing, and while I too admire Maria Callas, I could never truly picture anyone else in the role."

Her smile was infectious. Whatever it was that she was seeing - I could almost feel it. "So, you've actually seen her perform…"

"Yes," still staring she said, "Severus, I will tell you a little secret. I loved a man once. I still do, but he is a Muggle. It could never be for a number of reasons. Well, anyway it was he who introduced me to the opera."

I felt weak. I had no idea. I never imagined her life outside the walls of this school. Minerva – in love – and it could never be... I couldn't speak. I wanted to say something but –

But she caught herself. She straightened herself again, and returned to looking deadly serious. She scowled down her nose at several students who seemed to be getting out of hand. They stopped instantly and then she turned to face me. She grinned at me in a devious way and said, "Severus, I can trust you to keep that quiet, can't I? Because if you don't, I will tell everyone just how passionate you can be when it comes to music, and I know you wouldn't want something like _that_ to be passed around."

Minerva McGonagall. Oh my God. "Yes. It is a deal. Incidentally what would you have done if I had said Maria Callas?" Obviously I had to change the subject, but I did wonder…

"Oh I would still have spoken to you," she explained

"Well maybe I wouldn't have spoken to you," I couldn't help it.

"Oh so that is how its going to be," she was laughing

And that was it. She and I are now forever bonded by shared secrets and a pact to keep silent about one another's private passions. Whatever tension had been between us was erased. For the duration of lunch, we spoke and parried cutting remarks with one another. We were laughing and we were - dare I say it, but happy. It was just like the conversations that I once shared with Lily and Evan - in another life, back when I had friends.

And after having spoken with Minerva McGonagall about things I would only have shared with Lily or Evan, I had to go to London with Dumbledore. I had to go with _him_ - off school grounds to buy records - again something I would only have done with one of my friends... Thankfully we said very little to one another. He left me to peruse the shelves of records on my own. As I collecting the things that I needed, I looked over my shoulder at him. He too was looking through piles of records, which of course got me to thinking – what does Albus Dumbledore listen to? He had said last night that he – no. Not after what was shared between Minerva and myself... I could not bear to learn too much about him.

Instead I focused on finding everything. David Bowie was a priority. I had at one point owned "Low," "Young Americans," and "Heroes." I found those three first, and almost bought "Lodger" in order to complete the Berlin Trilogy - but then I saw "Hunky Dory." I suddenly remembered how Evan used to love that record. I will deal with "Lodger" at some later date. More than anything else, I cannot live with out "Low." "Heroes," will bring back too many good memories of moments that I can never again experience. That record I will never play, I just need to own it. "Led Zeppelin IV," and "The Doors," were no different. "Heroes" was for Tisiphone, "The Doors," was for Evan. Pink Floyd's, "Animals" was essential but I know I'm not ready deal with the rest of their work. Finally, I bought my own copy of Joan Sutherland's performance of 'Lucia'...

I used my first payment to purchase records. What a child I am. Yet I am happy - for now I have new friends.

Dumbledore and I only exchanged small talk on the way back to the school. It was so awkward being out with him in such a way. I was extremely that grateful it was not made worse by his asking me what records I had purchased - or why I had done so.

I was actually happy when we got back, that is - until I passed Vrennon Stanhope in the hallway. He looked as lost and miserable as I had when I was his age. What happened to him?

And now I am back in my room, and I realize upon hearing these lines again just how remiss I have been in neglecting my Zeppelin. "The pain of war, cannot exceed, the woe of aftermath." That about gets it all said doesn't it…

~Thursday 3 December – Evening - My Room

Why can I not simply have _one_ good day? Why when things are finally starting to settle does this have to happen!?

I don't even remember classes or care what occurred. Dumbledore had Filch hand me a note in my final class for the day asking for me to meet him in his office. It is not a Friday, and I was certain nothing else could have happened. Everyone's fate has been settled hasn't it? They are all in Azkaban or had been released or were dead. So what had I overlooked?

I wasted no time after class I had dismissed the class. I even grew frustrated with a few stragglers who kept me from leaving promptly. I walked as quickly as I could with out running.

"Sir?" but I didn't see him right away. I heard him. His voice was muffled - coming from behind some bookshelf. I couldn't make out his exact words. He didn't appear right away, so I assumed that he had told me to wait. So I stood there uncomfortably feeling the eyes of the portraits upon me. I considered going over to the bird, to escape the gaze of the portraits, but even that animal makes me feel nervous. I was staring at it when it cocked its head to look at me – only it hadn't responded to me -

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," I jumped upon hearing him speak. Dumbledore had been standing just inches behind me. Had he meant to surprise me on purpose? I was nearly convinced by the cleaver look in his eyes that he had.

"Filch informed me that you had wanted a word with me," I was in no mood for practical jokes. He was trying to get me to lighten up before giving me bad news - of that I was certain.

He shuffled the stack of books in his arms and produced an opened roll of parchment. "You've received an invitation from the Malfoy family."

What? I managed only to blink in response.

He continued, completely ignoring my shock, "It seems you have been invited to a Christmas party, hosted by Lucius and his wife at their residence on Saturday, the nineteenth of December."

"What should I do?" I asked him. For certainly if I could not be permitted to visit shops on my own I would not have any business going to such a Godforsaken place - chaperoned or not. For once my imprisonment would work to my advantage.

He lowered his head, glaring over his glasses at me and said, "You will go of course."

"What." No. No - I couldn't... _No!_ He wasn't going to make me – "Sir, certainly you are not going to make me go - "

"Severus," he began, still staring me straight in the eye, "After all that you said to me not but a few weeks ago about wanting so desperately to single handedly hunt them all down and kill them yourself, do you now mean to tell me the you are afraid to attend a simple holiday gathering of Death Eaters?"

Afraid!? How dare he even suggest such a thing!? Fear has _nothing_ to do with it. Killing them is one thing - having dinner with them is another thing all together! Those people make me _sick_ - and of course he would never see this for in his heart he still thinks me to be one of them! "I am _not_ afraid. I simply do not see any reason why -"

"You don't see any reason!?" he cut me off so angrily. "Did you not agree to act as my spy?"

I opened my mouth but couldn't speak. Of course I knew there would come a point when I would have to – but I just, never imagined that time would have come so soon.

"We are very fortunate that they have invited you. I feared it might take far longer for them to welcome you back into the fold." After saying that he handed me the invitation.

I took it from his hand. I read it myself. My name in Malfoy's hand... Why did I think it would be years before I had to act? Of course, I had been brought to some peace by the thought that Dumbledore would be keeping an eye on them. Why did I not see it!? He means to do so through _me_ - already.

"You will respond promptly, and you will tell them that you mean to attend. I trust that you will know what to do when the time comes. Never the less, we will discuss this further as the event approaches." He looked at me, waiting for my response.

I had no intention of saying no. I wrote out my response and handed it back to him. "I assume it would be against the terms of our agreement for me to take this to the Owlery myself?" He was not amused, but I was even less so.

I left his office and now I am back here in my room. I don't even want to think about the Malfoys. At the moment I'm too angry with Dumbledore. He trusts I will know what to do when the time comes. He said as much, but this is a man who will not allow me to leave the castle alone. Like my trial, I will be coached for hours on what to do and say. I don't know what will be worst, the training or the thing itself.

Fuck. I wish I had joint. I could smoke and listen to Led Zeppelin just as I had in my seventh year. No, I'm not a teenage boy anymore. I have the waters of Slytherin - my lake fed pool. I will swim and listen to David Bowie, "Hunky Dory" I think.. It will be enough.

~Friday 4 December – Morning My Room

I knew listening to "Hunky Dory" would lead to trouble... Evan used to play that record so often. I made it a point to play only the first side of the record, but still I dreamed about my past. They were mostly good dreams about my friends. The longest was a hazy memory from a drunken night out in the woods with all of them, but it turned into a nightmare - for in the end Jocasta Carrow was there. She turned up in the crowd unexpectedly and for no apparent reason she gave Evan such a talking-to. She told Evan that she would kill him herself if he were to shame his family again.

It is quite possible – in fact it's highly likely that such a thing did occur, but that I know had only been a dream. There is no way I could have witnessed such a thing - for even the most highly intoxicated individual could never forget an encounter with that woman.

It's still hard for me to imagine that Jocasta had been Tisiphone's and Evan's Aunt. I can not imagine how that whole set of cousins spent so much time at her house under her authority over holidays and such. Tisiphone never spoke of it and neither did Avery, but Evan told me things. Avery I know she favored for he loved and obeyed his aunt as he did his own mother. But how Tisi and Evan turned out to be decent people after what they did to indoctrinate that generation against Muggles and most of humanity - I will never know.

Perhaps I am judging Matilda, Albert, Joan and Elwyn unfairly. God only knows what horrors they grew up with. I of all people should be sympathetic. I will do my best to be more patient with them today.

~Friday 4 December – Late Night in My Room

I really hate Dumbledore.

Classes ended to the week with out any incident. Oh Matilda made some off comment about me but I let it slide - for I promised to be more understanding. I felt all right by the time classes had ended, but then I remembered that it was Friday - which meant that I would have to meet with him. But would I? I had done so last night - should I really have to go again? But I did. I knew I had to.

When I walked through the door of his office, I found him sitting behind his desk. He was busy reading _The Evening Prophet._

"Forgive my intrusion Sir," I said, for he did not acknowledge me when I first entered the room. Already I began to doubt whether or not it had been right for me to come.

"Nonsense Severus, please sit down. It is Friday after all." he said as he laid the paper down upon his desk.

I swallowed hard. I really did not want to be there. I tried my best to think of something to say, but I couldn't. That was a mistake - because that's when Dumbledore started in talking. It wasn't him criticizing me, and it wasn't a set of orders either. This was far worse. It was small talk.

"It's terrible isn't it?" he said this as he gestured to the cover of _The Prophet_. Like the early edition, it too talked of only one subject.

"So they are really going through with it then? Of all people - Ludo Bagman now?" I may not have cared to chat with Dumbledore, but even I was curious about how it had come to this.

"I'm afraid so," he said looking and sounding very dismayed.

"That is absurd," I couldn't help saying. It was. Not one article I'd read today mentioned any real evidence against him save for a few weak ties he might have had to Augustus Rookwood.

"Yes, it is a sad commentary on the current state of affairs when even Ludovic Bagman can be called in to stand trial..." He sighed and then began talking about the circumstances surrounding the trial. I was only half paying attention.

I did this partially because I was tired and distracted by the many thoughts in my own head, but mostly, because I just wasn't ready to have an actual discussion with Albus Dumbledore. I mean, it's Dumbledore - not Madame Pomfrey or Minerva McGonagall. I just kept nodding at him, then he said something – it was mostly to himself. A name he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" I asked, for it irritated me how he had spoken it to himself and not to me.

He smiled at me brightly, "Oh nothing Severus, it's something I'm afraid you wouldn't understand."

Murrow. That was it.

Of course - _Murrow_. He'd mentioned Ed Murrow and assumed that I didn't know about him or what he'd done to combat McCarthyism. He thinks I haven't already drawn the parallels between Joseph McCarthy and Barty Crouch. All these assumptions about my ignorance this week! I've no profound love for Muggles, but why would he assume that I do not know things!? I am a Half-Blood! I was raised in the Muggle world by a woman who - for all intensive purposes pretended to _be_ a Muggle! On top of that - I've had hardly any friends my entire life. What does everyone think that I do with all of my time? Do they all not realize that I've read literally any book, magazine or newspaper I can get my hands on regardless of subject – just for the sake of having something to occupy my time and to give my life some semblance meaning!? Honestly.

I was far too irritated to listen to him after that. I didn't even pretend to pay attention. Finally I had to cut him off. I was too near to screaming. "Sir, would you like to discuss the topic of the upcoming Malfoy Gathering?"

"Not yet Severus," he said. And with that I was done. I told him that I was very tired and asked his permission to leave.

He gave his permission and so I turned and walked away, across that horrid red and gold carpet towards the door. Then I heard him say behind me, "Good night Severus."

I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn't help it. It was far too easy, and he'd really made me mad, "Good night Headmaster," I said, "Good night, and Good luck." And with that I left the room and shut the door behind me. He's not the only one who can read Muggle history books and newspapers.

I'd laugh about it now - but there is nothing funny about it. I hate how everyone judges me. Poor, ignorant, Muggle hating Death Eater... but what is any of that compared with my true guilt?

It can not be helped. That is my fate, and all of it is my own doing - because I accepted his invitation, because I betrayed her... There it is, and yet I am not left with nothing - for I have the whole of this weekend to spend with my books and my new records, my friends.

I have that, but now it begins to gnaw at me. Fifteen days. In fifteen days I will have to face them all again. And I am absolutely certain - he will be there…

Avery.


	15. Chapter 15

~Saturday 5 December – Early Evening - Sky full of indigo storm clouds

What a strange day it was, and my dream last night was stranger still. It seemed so real. Lily and I were walking to class. The hallways were bathed in warmth of orange sunlight as we made our way to the Potions Classroom - then suddenly we were already in class. We were brewing The Draught of Peace. Slughorn called over to Lily and asked her to help him carry a few cauldrons. She asked me if I would watch over her solution. I told her that I would. She thanked me but then she frowned. She looked at me with such sad eyes, then she told me that I would soon have another one to manage... When I woke up, I felt her with me still.

I went for a long walk after breakfast. I thought about her a lot. I remembered how we used to sit together and study while we were in Hogwarts... How in summer we would practice dueling with sticks and pretend we were characters in the stories... Sometimes she would be Asha, and I Sir Luckless... once we even placed an old shoe under one of her mothers pots and pretended it was the hopping pot.

I miss her so much.

At breakfast I thought about all the times in Hogwarts when she was not with me - when she was with her other friends. So often when I was with out her I would to long to walk through the grounds – but feared to do so. I knew I would be vulnerable to attacks from the Potter, Black and Pettigrew while Lupin watched – and looked out for professors. They were never caught. They could go out at any hour they pleased. I hated them for it. I always wanted so much to sneak out of the school as well but the sad truth of it was, I wanted to be leaving late at night with them. It was to my great shame - but I finally grew bold to sneak out alone. I was not like them, for I had no back up at all, so I was caught. I was punished with a terrible loss of house points and detention - things they always managed to avoid.

All that changed in my seventh year. With my own set of friends, we left the castle _and_ the grounds whenever we pleased. We were _never_ caught or punished. This was surely Avery and Mulciber's doing - even as a naive student I knew that. They were doing things, their fathers were doing things… bribing people, making threats, and using the Imperious Curse – they were ruthless.

Nothing has changed really… not for Avery at least. He still manages to avoid punishment. I thought about all this as I walked, and as I turned back to the castle I could not help but to dread what was to come. I would soon be in Malfoy Manor, surrounded by the lot of them.

When that thought crossed my mind I was no longer walking. I tore off running through the woods fueled by my fear and my fury. I felt possessed. The trees and fallen logs were nothing. If one were to suddenly appear in my path I would jump one and dodge the latter. Even the roots that caused me to stumble along the way barely managed to slow me down. My mind raced...

What will it be like to see Avery again? How will Lucius Malfoy act towards me? Will he be suspicious of me? Of course he will - they _all _will be! They all knew I had been a spy for The Dark Lord. Some of them would have known that he had ordered to take up a post at the school. I could easily claim that I am still acting upon his orders. They all lied to avoid punishment – certainly they will all be sympathetic to the fact that I had to do the same… And as much as I hate to admit to it – Dumbledore's plan of having me name only those who had betrayed the Dark Lord will pay off far sooner than either of us has expected it to I think. Dear God, my lies and Dumbledore's lies were better than the lies of the Death Eaters. Avery named Mulciber, his friend – and Karkaroff, that idiot, he named nearly all of us. I named those like Evan, whom they had disowned and marked for death...

I hate it when Dumbledore is right. Or is he? Will Evan's family curse me for what I have done to him in spite of the fact that they had practically disowned him? What did it matter? Either way I hated Dumbledore for his having made me lie about Evan in my trial.

I was cursing him, Karkaroff, Avery – all of them as I neared the castle. I climbed the old set of cracked stone steps that had been carved into a hill centuries earlier. I stared up at the massive structure of the Castle. Its tall towers seemed to piece the overcast afternoon sky. Just as I thought to curse Dumbledore again – I felt a stabbing pain in my arm. The Dark Mark burned with such an intensity that my entire arm grew hot. I stopped to catch my breath as I waited for the pain to subside. I wasn't breathing heavily from the pain – it was the fear. Why was my arm burning?

It is frequently soar. It stabs me with sudden pain several times a day. Most of this I think is in my head as it only hurts when I feel guilty or upset. Other times I know that it is merely the residual pain from the horrible curse he placed upon us.

What was so disturbing was the fact that the pain I felt in this afternoon was so much worse - and it it happened upon me so suddenly and for no apparent reason. As soon as the pain stopped I hurried for the castle. I longed to be safe behind the protection of it's walls. I thought about going to Dumbledore, but I didn't. Instead I calmed down and returned here to my room. I decided to write.

I think I was right in not having troubled him. Looking back upon the incident, I realize now that I was over reacting. There is no danger or reason to fear what I felt. That pain in my arm, surely came to me as a result of my own anger – that and from my being anxious about the Christmas Party. If I feel such pain again I will mention it to Dumbledore.

It's strange - my lungs are still burning from before. I've never run like that in my life - I am not used to breathing like that either... The cold air certainly didn't help. Stranger still, I like this pain. I'm not even concerned about that either, because the pain and the feeling that I get from it is so completely different from the pain that I have caused myself in the past. I really think running helped me - even more so than walking does. I will have to try that again - though perhaps not tomorrow.

I have one last thing to do now. My ring. The solution came to me while I was running. I can no longer wear it. The ring reveals too much about me and I shall have no markings about me which show any affinity to anything. Still, it is all that remains to me of Evan, and he was the last friend I ever had... I mean to take the serpent ring that he gave us and sew it into the lining of my coat - just inside the pocket. I will be aware of the metal circle whenever my hands are in my pockets of my coat and no one will know that I have it.

~Sunday 6 December – Not even noon yet...

Will there never be an end to this!? Even now- but it's over - _it's over!_ There is no end to their cruelty - but she would - for she is a _sick _woman and Rodolphus and Rabastan are no better. As to the boy being a part of it - I don't know, but this is beyond awful.

Filch found me in the Library. I was at peace. I was in the process of finding new books to read, but he told me that Dumbledore had wanted to see me. So to his office I went already feeling sick and afraid.

It was a brief meeting. He wanted to explain his absence, and to tell me what had happened before the news was all over _The Prophet_. How they have kept it quiet even for this long I do not know...

The two Aurors, Frank Longbottom and his wife Alice were found last night... Dumbledore said the spell damage was so severe that they will likely never recover. I went to school with them. They... I feel sick - their son is almost the exact same age. Did the Lestranges think that there had been some mistake? Dumbledore _said_ that the Lestranges and Crouch's son seem to have committed the act in an attempt to get information out of the two Aurors. They wanted to find The Dark Lord and for some reason believed that the Longbottoms knew where to find him.

I wish I could believe that.

I didn't stay to ask the question. I am sure the entire Wizarding World will be reeling when they find out that Crouch's son was involved - but I don't care if he is one of them or not. I did not care to stay and hear how the Ministry had managed to capture them. I don't even care that three of the most sadistic Death Eaters are now in Ministry custody or that Barty Crouch would surely be shamed for this. I asked to leave half way through his explanation and ran back to my room. The whole time I wanted to wretch. I still do.

Was this because of me?

They killed them... or as good as did - or worse. Did they think that their son might have been the boy in the prophecy? Was this my fault too? Have I ruined another family? Did I take two more lives and leave another child an orphan? Oh dear God I did.

~Sunday 6 December – Late Afternoon

I threw up. I threw up and then I went outside into the forest to run again. I'd go to Dumbledore. I'd ask him outright if this too was of my doing, but he has gone to The Ministry. By the time I had come inside after running he'd left. Everyone knows by now. The professors are talking about it, the students are talking about it, the portraits the ghosts - even Peeves. It is the only topic overheard in the hallways. I just keep walking with my head down. I know I am to blame. It is I who have done this to them…

I want so desperately to talk to Dumbledore. Wait - I am not alone. Minerva - or Madame Pomfrey. The Staff Room.

~Sunday 6 December – Late Night

I feel better now. I spent the afternoon in The Staff Room with Minerva and Pomona Sprout. At first it was terrible. Pomona cried a lot. Minerva was incredible - the way she consoled her. I saw it, she was holding back her own tears - and then they switched. Minerva began to cry and Pomona consoled her. It was terrible to watch them cry, but the way they took care of each other - well in some small way it was uplifting. At times they would even laugh through their tears as they recalled fond memories of their former students turned friends.

They talked to me too, asking me if I had known Frank and Alice well - which of course I hadn't. All I really knew of her was that she had a sweet face... Frank let me alone for the most part. I knew that he had been friendly with people that I had hated but I never had anything against him. He never taunted me or anyone else to the best of my knowledge. I never even thought much on them. It made me sad as I told Minerva and Pomona that I had not known them. I know they never would have been friends with me, as nice as they were and that made me upset too. I was never any good at making friends. People don't like me. I never smile - so they say, and I know never talk. It's not something I can help. But Alice was different. In every memory I recalled of her, she was smiling. She seemed so genuine and cheerful even when others around her were not. I don't know how she did it. I never know what to say in the best of situations, and smiling doesn't come naturally to me at all.

I was so good of Minerva and Pomona to talk to me today in spite of all my short comings. Even more so, the fact that they have accepted me in spite of my past has not been lost on me at all. I still felt terrible for what part I had to play in what happened to Alice and Frank, but just being in the same room as Minerva and Pomona gave me strength. Seeing them, the way the helped each made me remember what I am fighting for - why I still live.

I live for Harry. I live so that he will survive - and if he is truly lucky, he and all the children in this new generation will do so with out fear. This other boy, Neville - no it's not too late for him. Unlike Harry, he has a large family. They say he is with them now. Will they be friends I wonder? Dear God, they will be in school together - the same year. I will look down upon both boys and know that I have ruined their lives and have taken their parents form them.

I really want to cut myself right now, slam my head into a wall- or I want to drink until I pass out. I won't. Minerva. Pomona. Harry. I'm going to remain still and calm. Just breathe, don't think or feel. I am a soldier. I can do this.

~Monday 7 December – Late Night Cloudy

The Longbottoms are in Saint Mungo's. There is still no official word on their condition, but everyone knows they are too damaged to recover. Most don't want to accept it yet. There is so much talk in The Prophet and around the school already of the trial. It is going to be huge. Barty Crouch - the champion of the Wizarding World leading the battle against all dark Wizards having to try his own son. As if that wasn't enough - three of The Dark Lord's most fervent supporters will stand trial by his side. And since it is Bellatrix Lestrange - if her past antics are any indication, this will be a three-ring fucking circus for sure.

After my classes were finished for the day, I made it a point to pay Dumbledore a visit in his office. He still had not returned from The Ministry when I arrived. I glanced around at all of the portraits, hoping one of them might tell me when he meant to return, but they all ignored me and feigned sleep. Even Phineas who had so frequently informed me of Dumbledore's whereabouts snored far too loudly for it to be real. I could have visited Fawkes, but he - the symbol of The Order - I couldn't. I could not bear the way in which he looks at me. Alice and Frank had been Order members after all. Fawkes would certainly look at me knowing I had done in for another pair of Order members.

So I waited in the room - full of closed eyes that were upon me non-the less. I shivered at the thought. And when Dumbledore returned, they would hang upon our every word. Always I can feel them upon me - every time we cross words - the silent Greek chorus of former headmasters - silent but always there to act as witness and judge over me. I glared at them, I nearly called out to them in anger but my fear had gotten the better of me, sealing my lips like my beloved spell of Langlock...

Finally the door creaked open and the current Headmaster stepped through. "I wasn't expecting to see you Severus, is anything wrong?" he sounded as though he was irritated to see me. I could tell this, because his effort to sound pleasant was so forced that it was as impossible to believe as Phineas's snoring had been. Was he angry because he blamed me?

"Forgive the intrusion sir," for I truly was sorry, "I wanted to speak to you in regards to the Longbottoms."

"Yes?" He said as removed his traveling cloak and hung it in the wardrobe near the door. I could tell he was in no mood for this.

I wasn't even sure where to start. Why had I not spent my time composing my sentences instead of contemplating the bird and the portraits? "Sir, the reason that the Lestranges attacked the Longbottoms - was it because of me? Was it because of the things I had said?"

He gave me such a peculiar look and for a moment Dumbledore was completely speechless until he finally asked, "What do you mean Severus?"

What? He didn't know - how could he not know? Did he not blame me? I swallowed hard, "Sir," my voice cracked from guilt and fear, "Did they attack the Longbottoms because of the prophecy - because I of what told him? Did the Lestranges think that The Dark Lord had chosen the wrong boy?"

His faced changed completely. He looked at me with a pity I had not seen since the night after I had jumped from the tower. "Surely you do not think that this is your fault." He shook his head and crossed the room to where I stood. "Severus, this was the last desperate act of three deranged minds in search of their master, for what are the Lestranges with out Voldemort too look to for answers? They need him to live almost as much as they need air. Why they believed the Longbottoms had information regarding Voldemort's whereabouts had nothing to do with you or the prophecy."

When he first began speaking, Dumbledore seemed to feel sorry for me - sorry over the fact that I was felt such guilt for what had happened to the Longbottoms. But by the time he had finished his explanation, his expression had changed, as if he'd remembered it all. Was he recalling that night on the hill when I told him what I had done? Was he thinking about the deaths of Lily and James, and how much trouble I had caused him since... I bit my lip.

"I'm sorry." I said. It was all I could say.

"As I have already told you," he said in a flat tone. "This was not of your doing."

I am _so _sorry - I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for having caused all their deaths, for having eavesdropped on him and Trelawney that night, for telling The Dark Lord what I'd heard, for joining the Death Eaters in the first place, for how I had acted after their deaths...for troubling him tonight - for everything, but how could I? How can anyone even begin to express such remorse?

After what seemed like a very long time I finally looked up at him. I struggled so to start even a small part of the long list of apologies that I owed to him, but he stopped me and placed a hand upon my shoulder.

"There are many regrets we all must carry for the duration of our lives. Do not carry regrets needlessly. What happened to the Longbottoms was a terrible tragedy. The best thing that you and I can do for them now is to continue as planned. Keep Harry safe. I'm afraid these kinds of attacks will continue, despite the death of Voldemort." He looked at me. There was something dark in his bright blue eyes. "Now do you see why I have asked you to look after Harry? Now do you see how important it is that you are prepared to do your duty and attend the gathering at Malfoy Manner?"

"Yes," I said. His eyes carried far more weight than the hand that still rested upon my shoulder.

Finally he withdrew his hand but not his gaze. "Good, then I would ask you now to go back to your room and rest. Do not worry after The Longbottoms. They are in very good hands at Saint Mungo's. The Healers will look after them now. Get some sleep Severus."

"Thank you," I told him. And I left. I came back to my room to write. I suppose I could take his advice and try to sleep. I could also try to fly without the aide of a broom which would be far easier to do at this point. Sleep. Why does he always give such advice? Can _he_ sleep at night? I don't see how he could - Dumbledore has more to worry about that anyone.

I suppose I could try. Perhaps he is correct in what he says about Alice and Frank. Bellatrix has tortured simply to be entertained before... Still what happened to them will haunt my dreams tonight - and when he is old enough, it will surely haunt the dreams of their infant son for the days of his life...

~Tuesday 7 December – Daybreak

As I knew they would be, my dreams were haunted by thoughts of the Longbottoms and the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. In my slumber I recalled all too clearly recalled, the first and only time that the curse had been used upon me. It was the summer just after I had left Hogwarts in the early days of my having been a Death Eater. I don't recall the reason, but there was a large meeting and I had been called to it. Bellatrix danced about, singing proudly of the fact that she was the only woman in attendance. She had been prone to random acts of near madness before, but by that time they were quite common place. Gone were the days when one could have any semblance of rational conversation with her.

At some point, the song and dance turned dark. The others were drinking and acting almost as irrational she had been without benefit of alcohol. Several of the male Death Eaters - most of whom I did not know began playing games. These were the foolish kind of games one would expect of the brawny boys in Gryffindor. They cursed each other, seeing who could take the most pain. I sat quietly watching them with such profound contempt that I did not dare display on my face.

Still it was inevitable. "What's the little Half-blood boy doing here!?" Her shriek cut the night air. Everyone present fell silent as she began to rant and scream. "He's too little - too low ranking to be here tonight! -Thinks he's too good he does! How would you like a taste of a Stinging Jinx to the face!?" She was laughing her head off at this. "Well, what - nothing to say to me?"

"I am not afraid of you Bellatrix." I stood up. Even at eighteen I was nearly a head taller than her. I knew it would anger her. I knew it would only get me several Stinging Jinxes to the face or worse - but I was used to such abuse from bullies, and I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of calling me a coward.

She was worse than angry. She went off her head and screamed nearly incoherently. "Rabastan!" she screamed as she slapped her brother in law to push him out of the way, "Where is my fucking husband - fetch him now and have him teach this little wretch a lesson he will not soon forget!"

The next thing I knew, Rabastan, Rodolphus and several other men I had never seen were upon me. At that I _did_ feel fear. My heart was in my throat but I did not dare let on my weakness. I glared at all of them and did not blink.

"How dare you speak to me like that you bastard wretch of a Half-blood!?" She grabbed my face but I fought to remain still and fearless in her grasp. "Rodolphus," she said, her voice dropping to a guttural tone, "Crucio the boy." She let go.

There was no warning. I felt all of my limbs wrench back as if I were being pulled apart by horses. All the blood in my veins became an acid that burned with the intensity of the sun and the fires of hell combined. I wanted to scream but I could not even take in the air to do so. The next thing I knew I had crashed to the ground with out even having felt the impact - for the pain of collision was nothing compared with to the excruciating effects of the spell.

It was all I could do to breathe as the pain subsided. I could not see, but I heard the voice of a woman who was not Bellatrix, "And don't let me see you doing that again with out The Dark Lord's permission. The both of you! You _know_ what he would do if he had been here to see you use such a spell against another Death Eater without just cause."

"Damn you Sissy! I will do as I wish unless he himself gives the order." Bellatrix spat.

"And what will happen when he finds out what you have done and gives the order to have you punished? You know what he did to our mother when Andromeda refused to join us. Do you really think he will forgive you?" The woman stood just feet from me.

I looked up. Her blond hair was pulled back behind her head. She looked like Bellatrix, but there was something about her... I had never noticed before, but there was something close to kindness in her eyes. Despite the pain I still felt I forced myself to stand. I watched with the others who were all so fixated on the argument between the sisters. It was sad, and almost painful to stand by and watch as Narcissa Malfoy tried in vain to talk sense into her deranged sister...

I felt sorry for Narcissa, but all the while I kept thinking - I guess you're not the only woman good enough to be here Bella... That bitch.

The rest of my dreams that followed were much the same setting, only then it was the Longbottoms who were being cursed, and no Narcissa came to help them.

~Tuesday 7 December – Evening - Clear sky full of stars

It makes my skin crawl - nearly every article in _The Prophet_ is about the upcoming trial and the alleged involvement of The Crouch boy. They barely mention the Longbottoms now. Typical. It is all about the spectacle to _The Prophet_ and to The Ministry. Even the students speak of little else.

Minerva was the one bright spot. Over lunch she told me stories about the Longbottoms. I know she is still deeply upset. They were her students - she watched them grow up. They became her friends once they hadd joined The Order. It was sad, but it was far preferable to the rest of the Wizarding World missing the point on what had happened - and I knew it did her good to speak of them. I tried to keep my comments short, only asking questions which would allow her to continue telling her story.

There is to be a Quidditch match this weekend. It will not be postponed as the last one had been. I was upset at first but when I spoke with Minerva, I realized that it was for the best that it was still set to occur. She told me that she was greatly looking forward to it - as she does all matches. That is when I understood - if Quidditch once helped me to forget my troubles, than to her it will be a near miracle cure for her sorrow.

I am going out for a walk now, perhaps even a run. I know it is dark, but only in running myself to exhaustion will I be able to sleep on this night.

~Wednesday 8 December – Late Afternoon - Sun still lingers

Today was no different from the last few days. _The Prophet_ now focuses almost entirely on the gallant and no doubt exaggerated tales of how The Ministry managed to capture the four alleged Death Eaters... that and the endless speculation on the massive trial that is to come. There is the occasional mention of the tragedy that has befallen the Longbottom family but not much else.

The most offensive articles have been those that discuss how all this business of the Longbottoms and the Lestranges is made far worse because the Christmas holidays draw so near. Why do people care about that at all? It is selfish really... They cannot concentrate on celebrating for fear that their merriment might be disrupted because they would be forced to remember that another family had to suffer such a terrible loss? Stupid.

I am not troubled by the time of year. However, something else has been troubling me deeply. My dream - my memory. I had not thought of it until today in class. Narcissa Malfoy came to my aid when I was under attack. She meant only to keep her sister and brother in -law out of trouble... but that was not so different from another time when a woman came to my aid while I was helpless and under attack.

In my pride and arrogance - what I did to her, what I said because I could not bear to seem weak in front of Potter. I have cursed myself for years over the act of cowardice that it was to call her such a horrid thing. Now it is made all the worse in the realization that when a woman that I barely knew did the same, I did not react at all. I was reeling in pain yes, but why did I not react poorly to her? I could think it because I had learned better by then, but that will not help me to sleep any better tonight knowing that I permitted a Death Eater to help me and not my best friend.

Lily was right to not forgive me.

~Thursday 9 December – Late evening Clouds obscure the moon

As everyone was suspecting, they are waiting to hold The Trial until after the holidays. This is meant to make things easier on The Ministry and to lift sprits. I think they did it to sell more papers and to have a topic of distraction to occupy The Wizarding World a bit longer. This I am sure is a blessing. Gossip about Bellatrix and even Barty Crouch will take the focus from the other, far more complicated matters that no one wants to think on... There are of course the businesses in Hogsmeade that are still struggling to recover after all that happened, not to mention the scores of families that have been torn apart... Then there is still the unease that lingers still so tangible in the Wizarding World.

It is a disaster, and Crouch's perverted version of justice only helps fuel the fires of suspicion and terror. He makes it seem as though more than half of the population might still be a threat. How is the Wizarding World to recover? It is almost as if the war hasn't ended.

There is some light now, as some people are finally beginning to see Crouch for the monster he is - or at least they feel safe to admit that now that he has a weakness. Perhaps we need no Ed Murrow after all. Whether the Crouch boy is found guilty or not - The Ministry might just use this as their excuse to oust him in some way.

Strange really. I have no memory of ever having seen the Crouch Boy. I barely even remember him from school, but he was younger than I am so I wouldn't have seen him much. I suppose he _could_ have been a Death Eater, I saw so few of them when I was in their ranks. As to his being with someone as high ranking as Bellatrix, that is difficult to believe, but I suppose anything is possible. I'm worried for him. If he is innocent - his father will never accept it.

As to Bellatrix, Rabastan and Rodolphus, I hope they rot in hell. I hope the Dementors to do them what they did The Longbottoms - and to all the Muggles, Witches, Wizards, Squibs, and even that poor stray dog... I hate them. For once I am not afraid that The Ministry will be persuaded to let them off. Not Even Luscious Malfoy has that kind of power. Christmas will come and go, then they will be sent away to Azkaban for all eternity.

Great. Now there will be another awful awkward truth hanging in the air at the Malfoy party. Let us see, they will want to know why have I been so close to Dumbledore these past months and why I have not bothered to meet with any of them. Avery will want a word I am certain that will be painful. He will want to know why I ignored him after we left school, among other things. Mulciber - he sold out Mulciber what do I say to that!? My worst fear is what I will do when he asks me about Evan... or Wilkes. What if I have to meet Avery's father - Evan was almost as afraid of him as he was his own fucking father. _Evan's father_ - his whole family, what will I say to them after I sold out there son? Philipe Rosier will flay me alive - And then of course all anyone will talk about after that is Bellatrix and Rodolphus! _Fuck._

I'm going running for a long time. I don't care how late it is. No creature will stalk me in the woods tonight - for I am far more of a fury than any of them could ever be. They will not dare cross my path.

~Sunday 13 December – Night

Why am I writing now... I don't know where or why to start.

I won't sleep, tired as I am, having not slept since, Thursday night I suppose - no not tonight. I will not sleep. What if, it happens while I am sleeping? True I am not there - I should be, shouldn't I? It won't happen tonight, they said so. I was certain of it a few hours ago - that it would be months as they said it would, still I can't shake it. I couldn't wait to leave since the moment I had arrived, and now I want nothing more than to go back.

He called me to his office early on Friday afternoon. Numb. I was numb. I wasn't even afraid, as I always am when I am summoned.

"Sir."

"Severus, please sit down." He stood up the moment he saw me. There was something in his voice. Still, I had no idea at all what he... so I sat down in front of his desk. He still stood. He paused, looked at me, and then he said, "Severus, there's been an Owl from The Ministry for you..."

Was I supposed to speak? He looked at me a moment, and I think that is when I first began to understand things.

He finally finished considering me and then he spoke, "I think it's best if I were to read it to you."

I nodded. I suddenly felt like a child.

"Severus Snape, We regret to inform you that early this morning your father, Tobias Snape was killed in an accident at the factory where he worked. Your mother was immediately moved from the Muggle hospital where she has resided these past months and taken to Saint Mungo's for her safety. This was done in accordance with bylaw 147, which states that if a Witch or Wizard has previously been in the care of a Muggle relative who can no longer care for them, that Witch or Wizard will become a ward of The Ministry of Magic" He paused and looked up at me.

I felt nothing not at first. My - father - is dead? That wasn't registering. How could he be dead? He was such a powerful - dead? Accident. I - but - what? My Mother? My _mother _- what!? What happened to my mother!?

He was still glaring down at me over his half-moon spectacles. "Did you even know that your mother was in a hospital?"

I was still staring, still shell shocked and too afraid even to tremble at the thought. I weakly shook my head to say no. Was - was he accusing me? He was. After what I had just been told - he was accusing me of neglecting her!? No - "What - what happened to my mother?" I was too near to tears to speak any further.

"Your mother, the letter goes on to say, has been suffering from an incurable Muggle illness." He was watching me. I was still staring horrified into space. "She is dying Severus."

Throwing buckets of ice on me didn't even begin to describe... And he just said it. He just said it so flat as if he were reading from a list of dates in a history book.

"You didn't know about this?" He asked again.

I wanted to draw my knees up to my chest and rock myself furiously as I had done so often in the corner of my bedroom as a child. Do it, I remember thinking, just do it - it doesn't matter - nothing matters anymore.

I stopped short - only wrapping my arms around myself tightly and freezing to the chair - as if my stillness would stop the sound. Stop talking - I won't even breathe just stop and leave me alone.

He wouldn't stop looking at me. "Would you have even visited her if you had known?"

I was going to scream.

"Severus, I am truly sorry for you. This must be very difficult for you. I will go with you to Saint Mungo's straight away if you wish it." He was looking at me, was he waiting for an answer?

No. No I wouldn't have. Just a few seconds earlier I would have killed him for the accusation... _No._ Why would I? Seeing me would only have upset her more. It would have upset me to see her in such a way and I knew I would bring her no comfort. She loved _him._ She loved me, I knew that but - "Sir, does she know about my father? Does she understand?"

"The letter explains that your Mother has been beyond reach for a very long time. It is likely she does not understand, or has even been told about your father." He stopped talking. He stopped talking because I had started crying.

That was what he had wanted wasn't it? I was trying too hard to be strong and show no weakness to him... I wanted to seem unaffected by the students or anything that had happened and he... It is so much easier to just be mad at him. He brought me water and a handkerchief as I sobbed. "Calm yourself, and we will go to see your mother," he was saying.

I know he walked with his arm around me through the corridors. I know no one saw us save for the portraits and the ghosts. I know that we Disapparated through Side-Along Apparition. I recall the waiting room or Saint Mungo's and that Dumbledore was with me all that time. As much as I hate him - when he left me at the door to my mother's room, I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want to be alone with her.

The Closed Ward. It is a Cancer, but she is in the Closed Ward because her mind is gone. Why was I going into the room? Why was I walking across the floor? The woman lying in the bed with long, lank black hair - was that really my mother?

It was awful. I felt sick to my stomach just to look at her. It was her but my mother - she wasn't _that _old. She seemed to have aged fifteen years since last I had seen her. Her black hair was streaked with gray... In the past, her skin was almost as sallow as mine - but now her skin seemed positively gray. She had grown so thin - she was barely a wisp of a woman. There was almost nothing left of her, as if her body had wasted away with her mind.

"Mum?" I heard myself say it, though I had not even thought to speak. "Mum?" I said again, I was child calling out for her but she wouldn't answer.

There was a Healer with me. I hadn't noticed until I heard the scrape of wood upon the floor. I felt her hands upon my shoulders as she helped me onto the chair that she had just brought over to the side of my mother's bed. The Healer had said something to me, but what she said I barely remember... but I do remember when _she_ finally spoke.

She was still sleeping, but I finally raised my nerve to take her hand. "Mum, I'm here..." I told her.

She seemed almost to wake up, though her eyes did not fully open. "Tobias?"

My heart sank. I fought with all of the strength that I had not to cry, but the lump in my throat was too much. My voice cracked as I told her, "No Mum, its me, its Severus."

"Tobias..." she seemed to squeeze my hand. "Where is Tobias? When will he come home?"

"Soon Mum. He'll be home soon." What else was there to say?

I sat with her until the hour grew late. Every now and then she would wake, and call me by my father's name. "No Mum, it's me. I'm your son, I'm Severus. He's not home yet."

Finally around midnight Dumbledore entered the room. Had he been there all those hours? "Severus, I will be going back to the school now. I know we have our agreement about your being off school grounds without a chaperone, but under the circumstances..." he trailed off. "Stay with your mother for the weekend. I will come back to collect you Sunday evening. The Healers will look after you both. If you need anything at all, send me an Owl and I will come right back for you."

"Yes." It wasn't much of an answer. But it was all I could manage. Then he left me.

I sat up all night. Daylight was in the sky. Staring numbly though window I watched the sky shift from stark blackness into a veil of deep gray. I must have dozed off for a bit, either that or I had never seen them enter the room. But sometime in the early morning - a sound as loud as cannon fire woke me and sent me into a panic. That sound - the most God awful sound of screaming - I was as terrified as I had on the night when I had thrown myself from the tower - that night when another child's cries reminded me of _his! _What was happening - why- why now!? An infant was in the room - screaming and crying.

I searched frantically around the room for the source of the sound but the curtains around all of the other beds were drawn and I could see no one.

"_Sshhhh!"_ A woman's voice- she sounded almost angry, "I told you he was too young to be brought here now."

"But she has been asking for him!" a younger man said to her.

"There, there," she said in a much calmer voice for she must have been speaking to the child. "Your Mum is right here now. It's all right Neville, don't cry."

Neville? _Neville!?_ Oh dear God - that is _their_ son! Dear God My mother was in the same hospital room as The Longbottoms! I squeezed her hand. She didn't stir. I looked to her, I was afraid. Every time the boy cried - every time it kept coming back to me. _That night_ - Lily - James - The Boy!

I held on so tightly to my mother's hand - words cannot express how much needed her - how I needed to feel her hand, for it was the only thing rooting me to the Earth. If I let go I would - but I couldn't. It wasn't That night. I was with my mother in Saint Mungo's. Finally after what seemed an eternity he stopped crying, though it had taken me far longer to calm down than it had him.

Time became a confusing blur. I felt so lost in time and space. I had to keep reminding myself of the year, the date and the time. I am here. It is a morning in December. I am with my mother... and the Longbottoms are with us in the room.

I could hear them talking as the morning progressed. I never could not make out what it was that they were saying at the other end of the room - and I didn't want to. Every so often the child would cry. Every time I wanted to run screaming in terror from the room. It's _Neville_ I kept telling myself - it's the Longbottom's boy - but it was _her_ son that I heard. It was her face that I saw in the darkness. I sat there as still as stone - feeling the fear, telling myself this was different. Only it wasn't. This boy, just like Harry was crying out for a mother who would never reach for him again. I was no different - for there I was holding my mother's hand, but...

"Mum?" But she wouldn't wake. Neville cried again. He was crying - both of those children cry for mothers who will never again respond to them and it was all my fault.

My mother finally woke up around eleven in the morning. "Tobias?" she asked of me.

"No Mum, it is I, Severus. I am your son." I kept telling her but she seemed not to hear me at all.

This continued through until late afternoon until finally, "Tobias?" she asked of me.

"Yes," I told her as I squeezed her hand. She seemed to be eased by this and she went back to sleep.

Had I really just done that? Had I just lied and claimed to be the person that I hate more than almost anyone - _hated -_ right, I must refer to him now in the past tense he's dead. But I had I pretended to _be_ him. I wanted to feel sick - but I didn't. I changed my name because I was so discussed by what little of him lives in me. But I changed my named to _her_ name, and I suppose I wasn't sickened by the act because I knew I had done the right thing, for I had done it for her.

And that was it. She would wake up, she would ask for him, or she'd ask when he was coming home - and I would lie, either saying "Soon," or "Yes it's me," depending on the question. Just a few words. Two little lies. It was enough for her. She slept, and she didn't seem to be in pain. That is the only good thing... The Healers had said that she isn't in any pain at the moment.

They told me that they can give her potions to ease her pain, and that when the time comes, they will make that easier for her as well. They don't know how much longer she will have. They think it will be two months, four at most.

Potions will ease her pain, but nothing can heal her - nothing can bring her mind back. My mother is dying and I can do no magic nor create any potion to help her. I feel so useless - I am nothing more than a helpless child. The only thing that I can do is sit by her side and watch her slip away. That was all I did for the entire weekend.

Darkness came, so I knew that Saturday had ended. Daylight came back, so I knew that today had started. Dumbledore came for me when Darkness fell again. He brought me back here to Hogwarts, telling me I was free to see her at any time if I wished. I will go to see her every weekend, and some days after classes have ended...

O'Malley will be teaching my classes tomorrow. They've given me leave to attend the funeral. I asked that they not inform the students as to why...

I don't know what else to write.


	16. Chapter 16

~Monday 14 December – Late evening Clouds obscure the moon

I watched them burry my father. I don't want to think upon the rest of it. I just want to teach my classes to take my mind from the matter. Tomorrow...

~Tuesday 15 December – Late evening Clouds obscure the moon

Perhaps I should have listened to Dumbledore's advice and allowed someone else to teach my classes today. Though to think on it - that is what happened, for it was not I who stood before the students and lectured today. In my place was an undead monster that walked lifelessly through the room and spoke with my voice to give the class their instructions. It was no different from any other day.

My thoughts began to stray early. I stared out to Lily's former place in the room. I kept picturing her as she was - how she would have sat there, brewing potions or taking notes -laughing, as she ran her hand through her fire red hair. I can still see the caldron's fire reflected in her emerald green eyes. No, I can't - that light is gone. She is dead and the firelight itself is diminished in her absence.

A boy stood beside her at times but that boy is not me, he is long dead too. Many years before him, another girl with dark hair and sallow skin also took her places at one of those desks. I wonder if she ever laughed. My mother always said that some of the happiest days of her life were once spent at Hogwarts, but then she would always add that the best days of her life began when she met my father and had me.

When I was younger I could have believed it, she was so different then. But as I grew older - I hated to hear her say it. The woman that I came home to after I began my studies at Hogwarts never seemed happy at all. Her face was almost as grim as mine. If that was the case then her days at Hogwarts must have been miserable. There was always such sadness behind her eyes. At home she would smile when she saw him, or me but I can tell a true smile from a forced one. I can only imagine her face when she sat for Potions Class - the only light coming from the caldron. Lily emanated a light that eclipsed the fires... It is so unfair. Even I found some peace in this school so why couldn't my mother?

I was thinking about her forced smiles, how she had fought to conceal her pain for my sake. She didn't want me to worry I knew... But how could I not worry? I swear I could see her sorrow before I could even speak. Nothing could hide the hurt in her eyes, as she would stoop to pick me up and hug me after he had screamed at her. Always she would smile at me, mopping the hair from my eyes then saying with a grin, "Don't worry Severus, Mummy and Daddy just had a little fight, it's Ok - that's what grown ups do."

I never believed that, just as I could not believe in her smiles. Perhaps that is why I never smile - why my face remains as still as stone. I know that it will not fool anyone. People always grin at you when they want you to believe some bullshit story. "I was working late..." or else, "I didn't mean to..." or better yet -

At that my thoughts were interrupted. The awful laughter of teenage girls erupted before me. I looked down as deep blue smoke rose in pillars from Joan Ogden's cauldron. It wasn't so much that she had blundered that made me so angry, it was the fact that she and all of her friends found it to be so funny. Someone could have gotten hurt - but then of course, she and her cohorts like to see the innocent burnt by botched potions, lest I forget the incident where upon they tampered with Swanhilde Eyton's potion and caused it to explode on the poor girl. .

I should have said something or scolded her for laughing about it, but all I did was ask, "What on Earth were you thinking adding the Salamander Blood before Powdered Griffin claw?"

They hadn't stopped laughing, "Right." she said in an insolent tone, "Sorry Snape, but I never learned how to brew a Strengthening Solution." The entire class found this funny, they were all laughing.

"The Strengthening Solution is a standard potion, you should have learned it last year." Still they all laughed. I hated it.

Joan herself was nearly in tears from laughing so hard. But she stopped suddenly, long before the others and began biting her lip. She looked up at me strangely for a moment - than she laughed again and said, "Everyone knows that I was absent for most of last year because I had Scrofungulus. I nearly died Snape, - the entire school knows about it."

I rolled my eyes, turned my back on her and stalked back up to my desk. I ignored them for the rest of the class. "Snape" they all call me. Some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs will occasionally call me "Professor" - but now most of the students from those two houses have joined the rest of the school in calling me "Snape" as well. I hate that name for it is his. Now it is made all the worse when I am referred to as such by the students. They treat me as if I were one of them, or just an older student - a Prefect maybe, but not a professor.

They never call me "Sir," or "Professor Snape," and a few times the older Slytherins have even called me "Severus." I'd stop them but what good would it do? None of them ever listen to me. Not one of them takes me seriously - and I don't blame them. I _am_ just an older student - staring into space because I cannot stop thinking about the girl that I love more than anything in the world. I can think only of the girl that I killed, and the mother I am about to lose. So what difference does it make how they refer to me. It _doesn't_ matter

None of this matters.

~Wednesday 16 December – My Room. Dark

I am back. We are, Dumbledore and I. Professor O'Malley over took my classes again. Today I was forced to visit The Ministry of Magic to fill out papers and then on to Cokeworth and the courthouse there to deal with the legal issues of the Muggle world. My father left everything to my mother, but since she is... I had to.

The house. That house. I'm going to be sick. No. It is not my house - it never was and it never will be. I wrote a name that is half his on countless pieces of paper today. I may write it again and again but it will never mean anything. I will not set foot anywhere near that place as long as I live. Seal me in my cell in Hogwarts forever, I will never return to the house on Spinner's End in Cokeworth.

It was bad enough that I had to walk there - through _those _streets and _those_ places. All I could see was Lily. As a boy, I would walk to see her - she would walk _with_ me - by my side. I took it all for granted and then she was gone. The days after I'd said it - severed us by the horrid thing that I had so named her - I was walking alone. At the time I thought it the worst thing possible. How foolish I was. I took that for granted too - for even though she was far from my side, she was still there - only a few streets away... Now she has left this world forever. So what difference did it make where I walked today?

I am...home now. _ This_ room is the closest thing I shall ever have to a home. This bleak, black room, my cell in Slytherin. Slytherin - home. I am home.

God, I want to wrap myself in the black blankets of my bed and never move from them again. But I won't sleep - not tonight. How can I sleep when she is... I have to do something. I failed to save Lily. I will not fail my mother. I have to help her.

~Thursday 17 December - A gale gray sunrise

I stayed up through most of the night researching potions. I know far more than most people who passed through these halls and yet it is still not enough - healing draughts were never my specialty. Basic, even advanced skills I know will not do, still there must be _something_.

I kept telling myself this to fight off my exhaustion. I could not keep my eyes open, still I pressed on. There are a few things I mean to try. One draught will take several weeks to prepare, that one being the most promising. Another will only take a few hours, I will start both today the moment that classes have ended. A third draught I have little faith in but I still mean to give it a chance. That will take several days. I will start that one on Monday when I have returned from visiting her...and the dreaded gathering at Malfoy Manor - but I mustn't think upon that now. I must think only of the potions to heal my mother.

~Thursday 17 December - Very late

I have done all I can do for tonight. I wait upon the one potion - the other is nearly complete. Now must try to sleep - I will need my wits about me if I am to survive Saturday. It is so hard to focus. My guilt gets the better of me, for how can I sleep when she lies dying? All I can think to do is to stay up and research more healing draughts... I have to - but I know I mustn't. Damn you Dumbledore - fuck you, fuck the war. It is _over. _ The Dark Lord is dead. Does he not see how foolish this all is? There is nothing left to fear from them.

The only thing that matters now is my mother. The only thing to do is to spend all of my time and energy trying to heal her. I have lost everyone. The universe cannot take her from me as well - not now. Not now, not yet Mum no...

If she dies... I will be the last, won't I? I am. All of her family members have l passed on. I will be the last Prince 0 and I am not even a true Prince, only a Half-blood. Please don't take her away - please.

~Friday 18 December - Morning in my room

Plagued by dreams... and when I awoke from them I was still in my clothes. I think I must have passed out upon my bed from exhaustion. I had the book with as I lay across the coverlet, but I'd only managed to read a few lines. I will lose her if I do not try harder.

I am good - I know I am better than most of the Healers when it comes to potions. I am. I can do this. I have to. I know how to complete potions when the books do not. I can improve upon recipes, I know the subtleties that these ingredients require, and with enough time - but there is no time. I do not want to devote tomorrow to them - to their war. Just let me be - I want no part of this.

And now I must give up even more time - to teach? Why must I teach on top of all this!? This isn't real - my mother is _dying_. That is the only thing that is real.

~Friday 18 December - Potions Classroom

Five minutes remain of my final class for the day. I must go to see him. He will spend hours coaching me on what I am to do and say.

I know what he will say, but that won't stop me. I will ask him to permit me to not go, and to attend to my mother instead. Lucius would let me go to her.

~Friday 18 December - My room

I was only half awake, to exhausted from my nightly reading as I made my way to Dumbledore's Office from the Potions Classroom. Unfamiliar voices echoed throughout the hall, each more terrible than the last as they blurred together, creating one menacing sound. Then suddenly through the din, I heard her laughter. She ran past me - a mere memory of Lily, but I swear I felt her soft red hair brush against my fingers - the only bare part of skin where my sleeve ends far below my wrist. _Lily._ I stopped and spun on the spot, trying to see her. All I saw were the wretched faces of the current students staring back at me. She was gone, but I could still hear her laughter in my head.

_Lily. _

The blow hit me as if a wall of stone had fallen upon me - crushing me so that I could not breathe. I promised to protect him!

Dear God forgive me Lily. I will look after your son, no matter what the sacrifice, even it if means my own mother. Forgive me Mum. Forgive me Lily. I wanted to sob. I felt so helpless and trapped by fate. I felt ears forming in my eyes but I fought them back. I have no earned no such right to cry. I held my head up and walked dutifully to Dumbledore's office then. That was my only obligation - to be coached.

By the time I had reached the door to his office I was as numb and as hard as stone. I knocked on the door. He bid me enter and I marched in, soldier that I was - prepared to be trained all night with out complaint.

He sat confidently behind his desk. "Good evening Severus, how have you been this week?" As usual his words could have meant many things, but I did not permit my thoughts to wander by wondering what exactly it was that he meant. His sincerity or lack there of was irrelevant. I had been asked a question.

"I am well." I answered dutifully. I stood before his desk with my hands clasped behind my back. I was ready for anything.

He did not stand, but he looked up at me and said, "I am sure that you will be wanting to visit your mother this evening after we have finished speaking. I am afraid that I myself can not take you to Saint Mungo's as I am to have dinner tonight with Minister Millicent Bagnold and her family. However, I can arrange for Madame Pomfrey to take you if you would like. She would not be told of our secret arrangement of course. I will tell her that I felt it best that you not be alone at such a time. She will be most understanding, of that I am certain. What do you say?"

I was to respond to that? I knew I had to, but his words were not registering. What was this talk of my mother and his having dinner with the Minster of Magic? My orders... and Madame Pomfrey, "Sir, I would prefer to remain in the castle tonight. I must prepare for tomorrow. As to Madame Pomfrey, I would prefer it that neither she or any other members of the staff know about my mother." No one can know. No one can know that I have - or rather, that I once had a life outside of this castle. I was suddenly so terrified that they might already knew. "Professor O'Malley was not told the reason that she had been asked to cover my classes has she?"

"Of course not Severus," he said calmly, but not with out giving me a strange look. "I have not told anyone about either of your parents, only that you had to leave on a private matter. The staff is quite used to such things, as many members of staff prefer to keep such personal matters themselves. I would remind you however of what it was that I told you a few nights ago."

He waited a moment to see if I understood his meaning. I vaguely remembered.

"I told you that if you ever found yourself to be deeply upset about something that you should talk to me or someone else in this castle in whom you can confide. You do recall this, don't you?" He was giving me that look again, that piercing stare from above his half moon spectacles. I was trapped, found guilty and sentenced with out any words at all.

What was I to do? There was no one in the castle that I felt safe speaking with. It wouldn't be right to trouble Minerva McGonagall or Madame Pomfrey with such a thing. We had only just begun speaking on friendly terms. I was not about to approach either of those women and weep upon their shoulders over my dying mother. And why was he concerned over this? I had not come to his office to be comforted as if I were some wounded child. I was a soldier. I needed to be given my orders.

"Sir, I understand," I told him firmly. I didn't mean it, but I knew it was the answer that I was supposed to give to him. "I will do as you ask but I feel I must first focus on the Malfoy Gathering."

"Certainly. If you feel ready to do so we can speak about tomorrow night," he said this so casually.

"Yes Headmaster, I am ready to discuss the Malfoy Gathering." Were we honestly going to continue on like this? Did he mean to drag out or conversation until tomorrow night?

"Of course," he said, and then he stopped talking and began rummaging in his desk. Dear God, Dumbledore _was_ going to drag this out all night! Finally he seemed to find what it was that he had been searching for. He removed an item from the drawer and placed an envelope upon his desk. "I would advise you tomorrow night, to speak with as many people as possible. They will undoubtedly want to speak about Bellatrix, her husband, her brother in law and the Crouch boy. You will offer your sympathies to the Malfoys and to anyone else, but do not inquire after them. In fact you should do your best to not speak on the matter at all."

"If that is your wish then I will avoid the topic all together," I told him. "If they, or the trial is mentioned, I will change the subject as quickly as possible.

"Good," he told me, "Secondly, It is very important to impress upon them that you are still acting in accordance with Voldemort's wishes." At that I nearly broke the vow I had made to not grow angry with him. Impress upon them that I am still acting on The Dark Lords orders!? Did he honestly think I would do otherwise!? "Let them know that you mean to continue acting as an informant for them. If you must, tell them that you hope to soon gain my trust and with it, any plans that I might have for the school as well as any involvement I have with The Ministry of Magic."

Obviously I meant to convey such things... still I showed no signs of discontent, "Yes." I told him.

He glanced down at the envelope on his desk for a moment, and then to me, "Then that is settled. Now, you will recall the night when I asked you to take up the post of Potions Master?"

Again? How could he think I that I would forget such a terrible conversation? "Yes. You asked me to do so just after we returned from my trial."

"And you will recall our discussion concerning Voldemort's request that you take up the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You expressed your desire to take up the post on that evening," he paused then gave me that look again, "Do you recall this?"

"Yes. I told you that I would be better off teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. I told you that I did not want to teach at all, but that at least in The Defense against The Dark arts position I would be able teach the students something useful. I, unlike a great number of the other professors actually understand what the students might eventually be forced to face. I could teach them the best way to combat unfriendly spells." I'd done it. I had spoken my mind and thus broken my vow to be a good and obedient soldier.

But Albus Dumbledore only flashed a satisfied grin at my stubborn behavior. "I am glad to see that you recall the conversation and that you also remain passionate on the matter. You would do well to express this to those who ask about your teaching position tomorrow. In addition, you should know that I have this," he stopped for another dramatic pause as he reached for the envelope upon his desk and took his time to open it. Finally he handed the parchment across the desk for me to see.

I took it from his hand and began to read. "This is an application for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. _You_ did this. You filled it in and forged my named." He had. The entire page had been written out in my exact handwriting.

"No Severus," he said with a wicked grin, "You did."

"What?" I had never even seen the document.

He continued speaking in his cunning tone, "You filled it out and signed it yourself earlier that very day."

That bastard. That evil fucking git had forced me to fill out that fucking application when I was half mad with grief - sitting near dead in his office. Of course he made me do it then! He must have fed me every word any forced me to write while I sat staring into the void. My anger at the betrayal was too great and I could only glare at him.

He stood up then and reached for the parchment. I was clutching it so tightly I was likely to destroy it. Still I stared unmoving as he gently folded it, placed it back into the envelope and returned the whole wretched thing to it's hiding place inside the desk drawer. "You see Severus, that application is now permanently on record both here and at The Ministry. That will be our proof. I do hope you will forgive the manner in which I made you write it, but I believe that in time you will find it to be of great use to you."

Fine. Fine so this is another one of his schemes in which I am merely a marionette. So be it, I thought. I am a player upon your stage Dumbledore, I thought, now give me the exact lines you wish me to speak tomorrow - just as you did on the days leading up to my trial when my mind was nothing more than a blank slate for you to twist and bend to your schemes.

He smiled then and said, "Do you have any other questions about tomorrow night?"

What? "Sir? What do you mean?"

He gave me a strange look, "I am asking you if there is anything else you would like to discuss in regards to tomorrow of course."

That is it then!? That is all he means to tell me? There is no script, no hours of coaching!? The numbness dissolved - feeling, inside of me - it was fear. No, I cannot be afraid still, "That is all you mean to tell me?"

"Yes, I trust you Severus," the look he gave me then was one of genuine sincerity, but I took no comfort in it. How could I when I did not trust myself to know what to do? Dear God, why had I been so arrogant just moments earlier!? It was Hubris to think that I would know what to do with out his guidance. Fuck it - I hate it when he is right.

"Sir, if that is all that you wish to discuss with me, then I shall take my leave," I told him. He nodded and wished me a good night. And that was it.

I am to let him know tomorrow when I leave, and report to him the instant I return to the castle.

And now I am alone in my room. Alone, with nothing to go on. No - not nothing. He did tell me things.

Bellatrix. Offer my sympathy, but ask no further questions. Of course he means for me to remain ignorant on the matter. Anything that I learn cannot be used in her trial for if such testimony was to be used, then they would surely know me for a traitor.

That fucking forged application - we will never truly need it, will we? Still I should let on how irritated I am with Dumbledore, and how insolent he can be. That will not be difficult. I will let them know that I mean to continue to request the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I do mean to in truth... at least then I might not feel so useless as a professor.

He asked me to speak with as many people as possible. I am dreadful when it comes to such things. I am terrible in conversation and at making friends, but how else will I act as an informant if I do not converse with as many people as possible?

That is all tomorrow is truly about. He does not mean for me to return with information. My primary objective tomorrow is to firmly establish myself as one of them. They must come to trust me in time. The application, my having named only those who disappointed The Dark Lord in my trial - everything. Dumbledore is playing at some game that will go on for years, and only he knows where it is all going.

Unless... I never let my guard down. I must always keep up with him. In fact, I would do well to always think three steps ahead of him. I am not so easily fooled, as are all of the others. I may be his marionette and God knows I deserve far worse - but I mean to know why he pulls my strings and forces me to speak.

I am not a mindless pawn, nor can I be. I alone must act tomorrow. I must speak my own words and respond to all that they might say to me. That is to be my true training. I must learn to act alone. That is how I must overcome my fear, for I will be too consumed by the act itself to fear it. Most importantly, I must never forget why it is that I do this. Lily. I do this for you. I need only to think upon that.

God help me. I have less than twenty hours left to prepare myself.

~Saturday 19 December - Nearly Evening.

I stayed up for most of the night trying to imagine every possible situation in which I might find myself tonight. I have prepared my own list of lines to recite when asked any number of questions. I will employ Occlumens, I will look people in the eye and lie, and no one will ever know who I truly am.

All this I am certain that I can I can do. So why do my hands shake?

What does it matter? My feelings are nothing - all that matters is that I mask my fear. I have a mission to fulfill. All that remains now is to accomplish the act. So now I must leave for Malfoy Manor. God help me.


	17. Chapter 17

~Sunday 20 December - Near to One in the morning

I don't know where to begin. I returned from Malfoy Manor nearly two hours ago and I am still sickened by all that I have done and all that I have witnessed.

Writing about it will do little to ease my mind. Speaking with Dumbledore about the evening certainly did not help. Awful. I can still sense the taint of it upon me, as if the very air of the place was cursed. It is trapped in my lungs. I want to cough it out but I can't. Their malice creeps beneath my skin - I want to scratch that out, but it will never leave me. How can it? The scar upon my arm seals the black poison within me forever. It has always been in me. I am one of them.

It was I who said those things tonight. What does it matter that I lied for the sake of her son? It will not change who I am or what I have done. Had I not become one of them with them in the first place none of this would be necessary. They would all be alive. Dumbledore would not be stuck with me. His plans would concern the school and nothing more...

Dumbledore and his plans... This morning I thought I had been so cleaver when I recalled the fact that Dumbledore had asked me just weeks ago to retrieve my old Death Eater robes. Of course he had done so - because he had meant for me to wear them as soon as an opportunity such as this was to arise. I nearly went to his office to ask him if he would like me to wear them tonight. I would show him that I could keep up with his schemes but then I caught myself. He would not want that, - not tonight. No point in trying to look the part, for that would only be more obvious. No, my robes are meant for a far more sinister night that might not occur for years to come. I hate this.

To make matters worse - when the time came to leave, Dumbledore walked me to the gates of the grounds and stood by my side while I Disapparated. Evidently he could trust me to attend the gathering alone, but not walk the path to the gate by myself. I may have vowed to stay two steps ahead of him and to always know his mind, but sometimes I have no desire to understand his logic.

I held my head up and hid my fear - saying nothing to him. When I turned to Disapparate and let the darkness take me, I felt as though I was hurdling into another life. If only I had been. Still I tried to embrace the feeling for as long as I could.

My feet slammed into the ground. The deafening sound of my Apparition still echoed through out the trees all around me. I kept looking over my shoulder to make certain that no one else was near, but I stood alone in the dark on the gravel road. I had spent the morning preparing for any situation. I knew there would be a good chance that I might have Apparated at the same time as another set of guests and would then be forced to make conversation on my way to the gates. I was relieved to see that I was alone. I could prolong the act of making small talk for a few more minutes.

The night was too silent and unnaturally still. There was a biting cold in the air - it cut straight through my clothes and into my marrow. Once again I wished for a warm coat. I shuttered, but above me the sky was clear and full of stars. It was a breath taking sight, and enough to give me hope.

I began to make my way up the wooded road, glancing behind me every now and then to ensure that I was still alone. There was no sound but for the stony path shifting and crunching beneath my boots. Still I couldn't help but to look back over my shoulder. I was a twitchy boy again - too frightened to walk into the lion's den of The Great Hall, and then I saw it - Malfoy Manor looming ahead of me on the horizon like the clouds an oncoming storm.

This was not my place I thought as I turned onto the long, hedge flanked path that lead to the mansion. Where it ended, a set of large wrought iron gates waited. I felt like a rat penned into an inescapable maze, for the path was so narrow and the hedges at my sides were too solid and far too perfect. They might have been carved from stone. I presumed that in summer the green leaves would be quite lovely to look upon, but tonight they were still and dead. The gnarled branches looked positively hostile, but they were nothing compared with the mansion itself.

The imposing structure obscured the very sky. Malfoy Manor was a castle unto itself - far too large for a family of three and a few servants. Each floor seemed to grow larger than the one beneath it. Above them an endless series of towers scratched at the sky as if they were the claws of a giant great monster, threatening to tear down the stars and bury their light beneath the grounds of the mansion.

A few steps before I reached the gate and began to wonder how I would go about opening them. What if they were locked? A sudden panic gripped me - was I really meant to come tonight? Was this some sort of a trap set by the Death Eaters or even Dumbledore himself!? A series of terrors played out in my mind when suddenly the gate swung open of it's own accord.

I stepped through, only to see that it hadn't open on its own. A tiny little House Elf stood cowering behind the black iron bars. He reached only as far as my knee, and judging from the relative cleanliness of the tea towel that hung from his tiny pink shoulders - he was practically a baby. I had been cold with out a winter coat - but he must have been freezing. The poor thing wore a forced smile upon his face, and I could see how it pained him. His huge green eyes seemed tear stained and full fear. "Please sir, this way. Master is expecting you," he said.

"Sir." He'd called me _Sir_. No one ever calls me Sir. I felt very out of place as I followed the waif of an elf up to the front porch. On one side was a set of stone stairs. On the opposite side there was nothing but a four-foot drop. I'd never seen such a thing outside of books, but at least I felt less of a fool knowing that the lack of steps was for mounting horse and stepping into carriages. When I looked up, the mansion it seemed had stretched even taller. What am I doing - I thought to myself. I watched the elf hop up the steps and I stepped up behind him. With a snap of his fingers, the massive wooden front doors began to open. From the thunderous sound of creaking wood and iron that roared forth from the doors, be might well have been raising the portcullis of some great keep.

Inside I could see two twin chandeliers, each lit by what seemed to be several hundred candles. As numerous as they were, the flames gave off little luminescence. The gray stonewalls seemed to devour the light. Sound on the other hand they only helped to amplify as instants later I heard _his _voice from far across the hall. My heart raced. For a moment I felt as though I were trapped in the past or one of my nightmares. Would that it were only in my mind. I had to steady my heart and control my emotions. The nightmare was far from over, this was mealy the beginning and I could not afford to show any form of intimidation at all, so I walked with as much pride as I could feign towards the sound of his voice.

"Severus," he had said. "I feared I might not see you again. It is an honor to welcome you to our home." Beside Lucius stood his wife Narcissa. She forced herself to smile at me, but not so well as the elf had done just moments earlier.

"Thank you Lucius," I said to him, but I could feel her eyes upon me. I turned to look at her, "Narcissa," I knew my orders but I couldn't help it. "I was sorry to hear about your sister," I truly was sorry - for her sake.

"Thank you," she whispered to me. She held her head up in an effort to remain strong, but I had the curtsey to look away the moment I saw her eyes begin to glisten. Fuck. Now I'd done it. I had not planned for my weakness of heart and thus had no plan or rehearsed line that I might use to change subject in such a moment. Useless words began to race through my mind, but thankfully then - through the grace of God, Lucius spoke and did what I could not.

"Thank you Severus," he said quietly. "We have all been saddened by the turn of events but we will do all that is within our power to see that matters are set right. As to you, I do believe congratulations are in order. We were all pleased to hear that you had been given role of Potions Master and named the Head of Slytherin. You do our house a great honor."

I wanted so much to hate him in that instant, but was the first time that anyone had congratulated me on the appointment - false though the appointment and the compliment itself had been. Still, I held up my head and looked him in the eye to express my gratitude -

And that's when I saw it. The sickening realization -

I must l_earn_ from him.

There is no denying it. Lucius Malfoy has a gift for words that few others posses. Not even Nereus Avery could match Malfoy's ability to charm everyone that he meets. After all, he had just seduced me, hadn't he?

He had, for when I responded I did so with sincerity, "Thank you Lucius," I told him, "It means a great deal to me to hear you say that. It is my intention to uphold the honor of our house, for all those who have passed through its halls, and for The Dark Lord himself."

A deeply satisfied grin crossed his face, "I never doubted you Severus," he nearly purred. "It was well known to me that The Dark Lord had asked you to take up a post at Hogwarts, and while I know that Potions Master was not the position that he had requested, I am pleased to see that you are off to a promising start."

"I mean to continue on and to carry out his orders as planned," I told him with no hesitation.

"As do we all. Please," he said gesturing to the doors behind him, "My home is yours. The others are just inside. I will be joining you all shortly."

I nodded and then backed away from them. I made my way towards the hall, the sound of many voices grew nearer, and that's when it hit me - the gravity of what I had done. I'd said it. I'd said that I would do my best for the sake of The Dark Lord. I lied - but I had spoken those words with such conviction and yet I didn't flinch or feel a thing. The ease with which I had done it terrified me. But I have always been a good liar, why fear it now? Confused and troubled, I nearly froze in my tracks but I had reached the threshold. I was about to enter a room full of the highest-ranking Death Eater that remained free after the war. I could not afford to question what I was that I was doing. I had to seem as one of them or all would be lost.

I walked inside, but I could not shake my fear. There were so many of them - all grouped together, deep in conversations. What should I do? I was in the Common Room again - feeling lost and alone with no one to talk to. My primary objective was to speak with as many Death Eaters as possible and to gain their trust, but I didn't even know where to start. What could I do? Already I was failing.

Wine.

There was a table. The elf that I had seen outside was hurrying about to fill as many glasses as he could before he was called upon again to open the gate. I waited for him to finish before I walked over to the table and took a glass. At least if I had it to hold in my hand to drink from occasionally - I wouldn't feel so lost. Even the feel of the glass stem brought a comfort to me as I lifted it from the table. I glanced around to make certain that no one had seen me before retreating to the nearest corner. I hated myself for I felt like a coward - I knew would have to enter into a conversation at some point, but I still had no idea how to do it.

I was about to curse myself once again for fearing them, but as I considered the matter I began to realize that I had been right to hide. I am not some eager little puppy - bounding up to people that I do not know seeking affection - nor could I seem to be. I need to be aloof and let them come to me so as not to show any weakness. Only an idiot runs into battle with out first fully understanding the enemy - so stood in the corner silently as I studied my surroundings.

Naturally my eyes first sought to find all available exits. This took some time, as the room was nearly as large as The Great Hall. The dark wood paneled walls stretched to about thirty feet high. Above them, the vaulted ceiling was as ornately carved as those of the great cathedrals. Supporting it were stone columns that might well have been used in an ancient Roman Temple. Even more impressive was the monument of a fireplace that stood larger than many of the houses in the town where I grew up. Hogwarts had nothing to match it.

The room was host to nearly forty wizards and witches. Everyone was richly dressed in silk and velvet. They wore black, deep emerald greens or rich burgundy robes embroidered in silver or gold spirals. I felt so terribly out of place in my plain clothing. Even if I had worn my old robes, they would not have matched the splendor of those worn by all of the guests tonight. Funny, even as I stood there feeling as an insect among them, I remembered just why I like the clothing that I wear. I hate to wear ornate things just as I hate it when people stare at me. I'd rather not be seen at all. I was finally beginning to accept my place in the corner as I made further note of all those around me.

I noticed that most of them were adults but a few were young children - though none so young that they ran about in a loud, playful manner. They all stood still and straight like well trained dogs beside their parents. I was disturbed by the presence of the children. I hated to think that so many of these people were raising another generation to follow in their footsteps. Still, the thought that they had brought young children was a small comfort, for their presence ensured that there was little chance that anything too horrific would happen. Perhaps this was nothing more than a family gathering...

I took another sip of wine. As much as I wished to be highly intoxicated in that moment, I had no intention of giving up even the slightest bit of control. I was practically pretending to drink, which was stupid because even as a teenager I could drink nearly anyone under the table. I could go to class drunk, pass any exam and no one would even notice my inebriation... but this was different.

Even still, I was remiss. I was so focused on watching a young couple talking across the room, that I was caught off guard when a hand suddenly clapped me on the shoulder. I would have leapt in fear - but that gruff laugh - it all came back to me and I instantly gritted my teeth in aggravation at his unwelcome presence.

"Snape! I was beginning to think you were not coming!"

_Why is he here!?_

"Karkaroff. How have you been." I said plainly. Why did he have to be there? Of all the people that I wanted to avoid... I hated him even when I had been a Death Eater. He was an annoying little kid who came from Durmstrang. He'd been visiting family for a while and he would always show up uninvited to events. No one ever wanted to talk to him and somehow I would always be the one who ended up with the dreadful task of having to deal with him. I didn't want to speak to him tonight - but more to the point, I knew that my being seen to associate with someone so low ranking would do harm to the reputation I had meant to cultivate. But when I looked at him - the only person in that whole room who had approached me and wanted to talk to me - I couldn't help but to feel grateful to him. Had I gone I mad? I don't even like Karkaroff. The bastard accused me in his trail and yet I felt so happy to see him in that instant. For the first time all evening - longer felt so lost and alone.

He was laughed his gruff laugh in answer to my question, then preceded to announce to me, and nearly the entire room "Well, I've been better!" He was as loud and obnoxious as ever he had been. But in his face was the look of a man who seemed to be half of what he once was.

"We all have," I felt compelled to answer. Did I really need to allay his fears and let him know that he was not alone in feeling as drained as he did? I suppose I must have, for I had been genuine in that moment.

"Yes, well I hope you that will forgive me for that business with The Ministry of Magic. I hadn't wanted to, but in desperate times - Well no harm done eh!?" He laughed as he said this.

I narrowed my eyes at him as he continued to laugh, recalling all to well just why I could not stand him. Instantly any compassion or relief that I had felt at his presence vanished. He finds all of this amusing. And did he really have to be so loud? _Shut it_. Already I was dreaming up ways to escape from the conversation. Better to be awkward and alone.

"I am thinking to go back home," he was saying, "This country, it has its uses but this particular stay has not been as pleasant as some of my other visits. And what of you!? I hear they have made you a Professor now, eh? You were always an ambitious one Snape. Always knew you would succeed!"

Was he mocking me!? The bastard. I could have spat. Instead I took a sip of wine, using the time to calm myself so that when I answered him I would be still and speak with out any emotion, "I am merely following my orders Karkaroff,"

He laughed and then began prattling on, about what I honestly have no idea. At that point I had begun to ignore him as I do Dumbledore when he gets on my nerves. I looked around the room again. The atmosphere was so solemn and subdued. It seemed rather more like a wake than a Christmas party. I suppose it was. They had all lost family and friends in the war. No matter how evil their deeds had been - every one of them had still been someone's family. I began to feel sorry for them, but that only lasted a few moments - for that is when I spotted Avery.

Across the room not far from Karkaroff and I, the blond bastard stood tall in shimmering silk black robes - radiating confidence. I was going to be sick. He was talking with a group of three older women. Two of them had their backs to me. The woman who faced me I knew to be his mother. The second I did not know - but the third - even with her back to me I knew she could only be Jocasta Carrow. I dropped my eyes, hoping that none of them had seen me.

I moved to hide behind Karkaroff. I nodded and pretended to be deeply immersed in our conversation. He was going on and on about how Durmstrang was such a better school than Hogwarts. Occasionally I would glance over to where Avery stood with the women. He hadn't moved. I looked around the rest of the room, but Lucius Malfoy and the rest of the inner circle of men were not present. I was certain that they were elsewhere - discussing plots and politics. Once more I cursed myself, for I should have been trying find them all that time - not cowering behind Karkaroff in fear that Avery might see me.

A wicked thought crossed my mind then. Had I not been so focused on concealing my emotions I might even have grinned - for Avery was not with the inner circle either. He was with his Mummy and his overbearing Aunt. Perhaps the fact that he had wept during his trial _had_ shamed him and now the others were shunning him - just as I'd hoped they would. Perhaps they had, for it certainly seemed as if they had abandoned him to the care of his Mother -

Why do I never learn?

Mere moments, I glanced over Karkaroff's shoulder just in time to see Avery advancing towards us. Fuck. I looked straight at Karkaroff ignoring Avery all together just to spite him - I even feigned a laugh as Karkaroff complained of the fact that Hogwarts classes are remedial compared with those of Durmstrang's, and then it was over. Avery had broken through the shield I had been making of Karkaroff.

He pushed his way between us. "Karkaroff - it's good to see you. And Snape," he said turning to face me, "Lucius said that you might be here, I've been talking with him a lot lately." Of course he felt the need to add that, Prick that he is.

"Avery, how have you been?" I asked with out any emotion, for I certainly did not care how he had been.

"I've been alright," he said grinning like an idiot.

Karkaroff clapped Avery on the back hard and said loudly - "You mean now that they got you out of Azkaban!" Karkaroff practically roared with laughter.

Avery on the other hand did nothing to disguise his distain. He glared at Karkaroff and then at me. He hated to be made a fool of in front of people, as I knew all too well. Back when I used to care for some reason, I would even cover for him. I would always do things on the sly so that others would not notice his inability to cast spells that even a first year would find simple... Tonight however I just stood back and watched him suffer the humiliation.

It wasn't long. After almost no time at all Avery was smirking again. "Have you heard," he said pompously, "Philip Rosier has named me his heir. I am going to receive Evan's inheritance!"

I nearly dropped the wine glass in shock. Despite my fury I forced myself to remain calm and still - even as I felt my pulse begin to race. The arrogance - how dare he. Evan was_ twice_ the man Avery will ever be. How _dare_ he take anything that was meant to be Evan's and boast of it!

I stared into his ice blue eyes. There was nothing but hollow pride behind them. Fuck you. The words raced through my mind as I recalled all to well the way I had lied to protect him during my trail. I had lied and told the Wizengamot that it was Evan and not Avery who had convinced us to join the Death Eaters. I had never even thought of it until that very moment - but Avery owed me a great deal of gratitude. Not that he would ever see it that way. In his eyes, I am not an equal - therefore it was my duty to cover for him no matter what the cost might have been to me. I was so enraged. Not only had I lied and shamed Evan's memory to help secure Avery's release, in doing so I had also helped him to become the heir of Philip Rosier. Why...

Evan Forgive me...

"How is it that Philip chose you Avery?" Karkaroff felt the need to ask, adding fuel to the fire of Avery's ego all the while.

"Well, Rosier is one of the greatest Wizarding families - second only to the Blacks. Philip well lets just say he is a difficult man to please and he doesn't let just anyone get close to him... But, you know we've been close for a few years now." He ran a hand through his long, blond locks and laughed.

I wanted to smash his face. His life was too perfect. Everything was just _handed_ to him - good looks, money power - and he didn't even care. He simply expected it. I wanted to scream, then he smiled at me - not a charming smile, this one was far more mocking.

"You know Severus, Evan evidently left something for you in his will as well - but good luck trying to get anything out of Philip!" He laughed and then Karkaroff joined in laughing - as if he knew anything.

I was so furious that it took a moment for it to register - Evan had a will? He'd had a will and he'd thought to leave me something!? Suddenly I felt as though some sliver of him was still alive and with me in that room. It did not matter what it was - Evan could have left me a broken quill and it would meant everything to me. If Avery is making this up - I thought - I will kill him.

"Have you even met Philip?" He asked abruptly interrupting my fond thoughts of Evan.

"I have only seen him a few times," I told Avery, "but I have never met him," And I never want to I might have added. I'd heard enough stories from Evan. Philip Rosier sounded even more horrific than my father is - was. Right he's dead.

I can still see it - the look that passed between Evan and his father that night. Evan, Wilkes, Tisiphone and I were sitting by the fire while the others stood just beyond the tree line talking. When Philip finally rejoined the others Evan broke down. He told us things that absolutely sickened me.

"Well," Avery said laughing, "Now that I am here, I will introduce him to you both." He didn't wait for us to answer. He turned swiftly on his heals and walked across the hall as if he would soon own Malfoy Manor in addition to Evan's former home.

I had no choice but to follow. As I did my heart began to pound just as it did just before my trial. The Death March. Yes, because I had condemned Evan, and I was about to answer for it - with Philip acting as the firing squad.

When we reached a crowd of well-dressed men and women I thought we were about to stop, for surely he would be among them - but he wasn't. Instead we walked around the crowd and continued to a dark corner of the room. There he hid amongst the shadows in an over sized leather armchair. Philip Rosier didn't so much sit in the chair as much as he slouched, practically draping over the thing. Where everyone else had worn vivid hues of emerald, red or deep black, he wore faded brown suede robes. At one point it might have been quite elegant, but he looked as though he had not taken it off in months. His hair was the same ashy brown as Evan's had been, though his was long, tangled and streaked with gray. His right arm hung over the chair, loosely holding a glass of brown liquor. I swear I could smell the alcohol when we were still several feet from him.

"Philip," Avery announced to him loudly.

My reaction was instant - _don't!_ Be quiet I wanted to tell Avery - do not disturb him! Too often had I witnessed the scene, as far back as I could remember? My chest tightened as it always did in such times as I stood there waiting for the explosion of fury - but it did not come as I had expected it to.

"Boy," Philip practically barked as he began to laugh. "Haven't seen you all night, finally stopped hounding Deverille's daughter eh?"

"Would that I had - but she isn't here tonight. Her loss!" Avery told him as he laughed loudly. The two shared a few more jests until, with out warning Philip Rosier's face turned sour. "Who are these two!?" he demanded as he pointed to Karkaroff and I with his glass of liquor.

The ice clanked loudly as some of the fluid flew out in our direction. He was glaring right at me, not Karkaroff - me. He wouldn't' stop. Now it comes, I thought. Now I will get what is coming to me.

Avery just laughed irreverently, "Philip, this is Igor Karkaroff and Severus Snape. They are friends of mine from school."

"Friends of _yours_?" Philip asked in a dark tone, emphasizing the word "yours" - Meaning were we friends of Avery's, or had we been friends of Evan's...

"Yes, of course they are my friends!" Avery assured him as he laughed - but his charm was having no effect on Philip. His eyes were still boring into me. I didn't dare move.

"_You,_" he said, gesturing at me again with the glass, "I know you. Tell me why. Tell me why you and not him."

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. His son. I watched him die - I didn't try to help I - "Sir, I..."

"You what!?" He cut me off before I could even attempt to apologize for all that I had done. "Well!? Are you going to tell me why? I want to know what you did to get it."

What had he meant? Was he referring to the fact that I had been pardoned? I could see he was growing impatient and I was growing nervous. The adrenaline ran through me, the same fear I felt as a child for I knew what was coming. "I don't understand -"

He raised his voice - "You are the one they made the professor aren't you!?"

"Yes Sir," I told him solemnly.

His eyes grew dark and his voice dropped to a low growl. "I was there you know. I was there that very night when _he_ asked for the position. Not much younger than you are now he was. So what did you do to secure the position that The Dark Lord himself was denied?"

What? The Dark Lord. This wasn't about Evan!? This was about the stupid teaching position and not his son? "Sir, I took the position upon his orders. It was his wish that I-"

"Oh so that excuses it!?" he spat at me.

"Philip," Avery cut in as he placed a hand on his arm, "I am sure Severus was given the position because of something that The Dark Lord did. I mean, that is the truth of it isn't it Severus? You couldn't have gotten such a position on your own."

Between the two of them... And Karkaroff - did he have to choose that moment to turn mute? "I did as he told me to do. If he had done something to secure my position it is unknown to me."

"Another idiot," Philip grunted as he took a long drink from his glass. "Nereus," he said to Avery as he grabbed him by the sleeve. Philip pulled him close to his face, and then whispered something to him.

I couldn't stand there any longer. I glanced around the room looking for the closest thing I could find to a familiar face. "If you will excuse me, I must speak with Antonin Dolohov." I did not wait for an answer. I just left.

Dolohov. I didn't know Dolohov. I'd spoken to him maybe once or twice, but I would have done anything to get out of there. I crossed the room to where he stood. He was speaking with another man that I did not know.

I was looking at him. I wasn't looking at the couple walking towards him, but when I looked up and saw her - my heart stopped. It was her - _her _- alive. No it couldn't be. That _woman!_ She was twenty year older - but she looked so like her. No - the resemblance was too uncanny, she could only have been Tisiphone's Mother. And that man beside her -

Move I told myself - _run_ - but I was frozen to the spot. I couldn't even manage to stop myself from staring at her - _move_.

That woman, with the same face, the same long dark hair... she looked right at me, but she did not see me. I was still several meters from them. I could still get away from the parents of my former girlfriend before they saw me.

She looked so like her, the same thin frame - the same harsh beauty, but her eyes were different... grayish blue where as Tisiphone's had been a shocking shade of amethyst. I watched as she squeezed the arm of the tall man beside her. Even at fifty and with silver hair, Tisiphone's father was a handsome man. God what had a girl like that been doing with someone as ugly as me?

Tisiphone's mother was nuzzling her head into her husband's shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled, as he looked down at her. She whispered something into his ear, and he kissed her on the forehead in response. She released her grip from his arm, then dropped her head and walked away - the black silk of her long dress rustling behind her as she went...

I stepped behind Dolohov and stood close by the wall where no one could see me. Running would have been too obvious. The three men began talking. It was Dolohov who said it, "I am so sorry Brice. I saw that _The Prophet_ had listed a Torchwood among those who were lost. I hadn't realized that you had any other family."

My chest tightened. _No_.

Brice Torchwood only smiled sadly saying quietly, "That was a mistake. My daughter has been dead for many years now."

_No!_

Brice looked over his shoulder across the room and then turned back to them saying, "Best not to mention it to Livia. She does not know about _The Prophet._ She still has not recovered from the loss of our little girl"

I felt tears forming behind my eyes - I wanted to cry - but I couldn't.

The other two nodded. The one I did not know placed a hand on his shoulder for a moment then let go. Brice looked over his shoulder again.

Then I looked over his shoulder. Livia - that's what he was looking at. She was on her way back, walking across the room carrying two wine glasses. Dear God they even walked the same way.

I had to get out of there before she returned. I dropped my head and began to walk away as quickly as I could with out drawing attention to myself and make for the nearest door. I had wanted to run screaming from the room since the moment that I had entered. I didn't belong there. Karkaroff - Philip - her dead. I couldn't-

No. Wait - no. Not her. He doesn't mean her - I tried to convince myself. He doesn't remember her. None of them do. It was I who was forgetting. We used to snog in her room. I used look over at the photographs on her nightstand, thinking how vain she was to have kept so many photographs of herself upon it. Finally one night she left me alone for a moment while she undressed and I realized how naive I had been. There were _two_ of them. Two Tisiphone's - twins.

"You have a sister?" I asked as she returned to me.

"Megaera." she said, smiling as she looked down at the photographs. "She was a year older than me. She died just before I came to Hogwarts."

I didn't know what to say, all those months and I had no idea. She only smiled and kissed me softly on the neck as I continued to stare at the photograph of the two dark haired girls with their arms around each other. I never knew...

Her father had referred to her sister, to Megaera. Perhaps she did escape. Perhaps she used a memory charm as I had hoped - however slim the chance... Perhaps she has joined her sister. Either way, I must never think of her or her poor sister in the presence of these people. That thought only made me want to escape from the room even more. By then I had reached the nearest door. I turned the brass knob and slid through the opening I did not care where it lead me.

I should have.

I cannot write of that just yet. I must go for a walk, even if it is just to pace about the corridor. Just for a few moments, just to breathe, and then I must recount all that occurred in the small room.


	18. Chapter 18

~Sunday 20 December - Almost two in the morning

I think that I can write about the remainder of my night in Malfoy Manor now.

I had escaped the notice of my former girlfriend's parents. I made for the nearest door, hoping to escape from the crowd of people gathered in the main hall of the party. So fearful was I of being noticed that I had not bothered to care where the door might have taken me.

The room that I had entered into was smaller and much darker. The only light came from the fireplace and the large ornate lamp set upon the table - but I could clearly see the faces of all the men present in the room. How he had gotten there before me I do not know - but there Nereus Avery stood with his aging father, Octavius Avery. Beside them were Crabbe, Goyle, Walden Macnair, Eamon Nott, Mulciber's father, and Lucius Malfoy himself. They had all been speaking in hushed voices, but the second they had seen me everyone fell into s complete silence. I opened my mouth to apologize and give my excuses for having intruded upon them, but once again, Lucius saved me the trouble as he had earlier in the evening.

"No need to apologize Severus." Lucius said softly, "I saw you speaking with Igor Karkaroff earlier. Any one of us here present would have looked for the nearest exit as well had we been in the same unfortunate situation." He grinned darkly and all the others began to laugh. I couldn't help but to laugh as well. It was funny. "I am glad that you have joined us in fact. Nereus, you should have invited your friend when we asked you here."

Avery did not seem to be pleased by this at all. He looked at me, then he forced himself to smile as he told Lucius in a mere whisper through his gritted teeth, "In future I will do so."

"Good," Lucius said, not bothering to look at Avery as he kept his eyes upon me, "Severus have you met my son?"

"I have not," I answered. At that, Crabbe, Nott and Macnair stepped aside. Behind them was and ornately carved crib. Beyond the wooden bars I could just make out the fair-haired toddler, sleeping among the blankets. So that was why they had been speaking so softly.

"This is my son Draco," Lucius said proudly as he rested his hands upon his serpent staff.

It took me a moment to register the name. I couldn't think, I was falling - falling fast and the room was spinning about me. My heart as racing -fear took hold of me - the bars, the crib - no. I was in Malfoy Manor - surrounded by the most dangerous men still left alive outside of Azkaban. I had to focus. I had to not think about the last time that I had seen a child behind the bars of a crib.

They had begun talking again. I took several deep breaths and strained my ears to hear.

"You speak out of turn," Nott was saying to someone. "It was not his responsibility." I looked to Lucius then and shut out all thought of the boy.

"No that's quite alright Eamon, McNair has the truth of it," Lucius said, and there was sadness in his voice when he spoke. I was almost certain that it was an act however. "We continually stressed the importance of remaining in the shadows for the present. We even went so far as to keep Bellatrix in a locked room upstairs at times."

"It's true," Crabbe was saying - sounding exasperated and upset himself. "You never saw her on her worst days. In the end, despite all of our best efforts there was little to be done for any of them. They just wouldn't listen, not to reason, pleading or even to threats. It was just awful. It tore Sissy apart to see her that way, and now this..."

Everyone fell silent for a few moments. They hung their heads in respect as if someone had died. I did too, but if I felt any sympathy at all it was towards Narcissa, certainly not for any of the others.

"Well I'll say it," Avery's father said, almost speaking above a whisper as he did, "It's better that it happened now. Better that they should be apprehended at a time when it doesn't interfere with our plans."

Another silence fell over the room. Not one person argued his position. Finally Eamon Nott spoke up, "I agree, better we should be rid of her recklessness. Bellatrix acted out of her own madness and never with any consideration for the group. She has been a liability for years. Lucius, my sympathies go out to you and to your wife but as far as I am concerned - let the Ministry deal with her."

"All of that is true," Lucius said nodding, "I too have been thinking this, though I don't dare say so in front of poor Narcissa. We are also quite lucky given the involvement of the Crouch boy. The Dark Lord never mentioned him to me, so why he was there l do not know. Still, it is a blessing nonetheless. Both the Ministry and The Prophet have been so fixated by the fact that the pious Barty Crouch's own son is a Death Eater that we may escape much of the spotlight. Already much of the attention has been taken from the Lestranges. We will simply do our best to distance ourselves from them."

"I would go so far as to say that we should not even be present at their trial," Avery's father announced.

The others all nodded their agreement. There was another long silence that fell heavy upon the room. No one seemed to know what to say. Of course they didn't. They were writing off three people that they had once considered family - they were leaving them for dead. One would expect them to seem upset, but when Lucius spoke again it was as if he spoke of livestock - not family. "Then it is settled. We continue with out the Lestranges. They have taken up too much of our time as it is. We should be turning our focus now to the boy, this Potter."

No. Not him! Stay away from him! Immediately my muscles tensed and my fingers nearly clenched into fist before I could remember my place. I must remain still and unmoved. I cannot display weakness now - he means to harm to the child! Even the way he said the word, "Potter," with such disgust - I hate it when Dumbledore is right.

Suddenly a voice from across the way cut into my thoughts - pulling back into the present. "What about him? The Devil take the boy for what he did to The Dark Lord!" Nott's voice, he'd spoken above a whisper.

Lucius moved to calm him, "Let us not be rash Nott, we do not yet know what will become of the boy. He defeated The Dark Lord. He, an infant defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard that ever lived. We should keep a close watch over him. In time, he might well become a standard to rally our kind. He is a Pureblood after all. He might very well be the key to our future."

What? What role could her son possibly play in their future? A standard? He is a child. Why make him out to be more than he is?

"Where is he now? The Ministry has been very quite concerning his whereabouts." Eamon Nott was speaking too loudly again. My chest began to tighten with fear. "Do we even know if he still lives? I don't believe what The Ministry has told the public about the boy for one minute, and I do not see what good he can be to us if he is dead or even hidden."

I heard him stir.

"You have my word Nott, the boy lives. I have learned through my friends within The Ministry that he is living with his family until he reaches school age. He will then be returning to our world, once he enters Hogwarts." Lucius spoke to Nott in such soothing tones he might well have been speaking to a frightened horse. Listening him, I realized how foolish I had been earlier when I allowed myself to be seduced - even briefly by his charm. What made me truly sick however was that I found myself paying such close attention to him. With out meaning to I was already studying him so that I will one day be able to lie with the same charm...

"Severus, that is where you come in," Lucius had turned to me at that very instant as if he had known - but I'd been using Occlumency. He could not have read my thoughts. Then suddenly I realized what he had meant, before he'd even said it. "And that is why I am so glad that you have joined us. As a professor in that wretched school, you will be in a unique position to keep an eye on the boy. Perhaps, over time you might even persuade him to join our cause. Both you and my son can help to have an influence over him."

I nodded my agreement, and Draco - as if he knew, stood up in his crib using the bars for support and began to speak, not in words, but in the soft sounds that children make before they can fully form speech. He was awake. My fears had been realized. Nott had spoken too loudly. When no one answered his immediate babble it started. He began to cry.

My throat closed up - Lily - Harry. I was in the room - no! Get out of it. I am in Malfoy Manor!

But he was screaming! With out any warning the door to the room opened. Light poured in through the door from the huge hall beyond - but there was no one standing in the open door. What was happening?

"Master, it is time for dinner, and Master wished to be told when it was time for dinner." That voice - the elf. I looked down and there, not but two feet from the ground stood the tiny creature.

"Thank you Dobby," Lucius said looking to the others and not the elf. "Well then, shall we? And Dobby, once you have finished serving dinner, see to my son."

"Yes Sir," the elf said bowing.

The others followed Malfoy through the door, but I was pinioned to the spot. What should I do? The child was crying. He didn't mean to stop it. I wanted to move but I couldn't. I wanted to run or to scream, but I couldn't do a thing.

I wish I could say that I stayed because I did not want to leave the child unattended, but I honestly could not move to save my life. I was so afraid - Lily - her son... but Harry was not the child in the crib - it was Draco. I was at a total lost. What shall I do? What shall I do - I thought again and again.

The guilt over took me - I never helped her son when he was crying. I never looked to the child. I never picked him up to comfort him.

How could I? How could I touch him? I was a murderer - cursed and with the blood of his mother upon my hands! I could not help this boy either... blood still stained my hands and I could not help him any more than I could move...

I couldn't, but I couldn't take his cries either. I am such a terrible person. I tried to calm myself. I had to get out of the room and to join the others at dinner after all. I was a spy! I was sent to look out for her son whom they had just threatened. I had to leave the room. I was not fit to be near children - my place was with them.

But when I was finally able to move again, I wasn't walking towards the door. It had taken me several steps to realize it - but that I was walking towards the crib. What was I doing? Before I knew it I was standing above the crib. This child's cries pierced my ears. Please stop crying, I thought - I don't even know how to calm a crying child...

I took a deep breath and tried to be rational. Just leave, just walk away - but something else had taken over. I had reached down to him. The next thing I knew I had the child in my arms. He nestled his head into my shoulder. I was going to be sick. Still he cried - not as loud as before but now he cried right in my ear. I felt my eardrums would shatter.

What shall do? I know nothing of children. Sing to him? Sing - what? I do not sing. I don't know how to sing - and even then what - would I sing to a child? Draco continued to cry - and then it was my voice. I heard it before I knew what I was doing, barely a whisper but I was signing to him.

"It's a god-awful small affair

To the girl with the mousy hair"

I had begun singing the first song that had come into my mind. David Bowie - "Life on Mars." The boy quieted down instantly, so I kept going. How he even heard me sing I don't know. I was so quiet, even more so than usual for fear he would cry again.

But her mummy is yelling "No"

And her daddy has told her to go

But her friend is nowhere to be seen

Now she walks through her sunken dream

To the seat with the clearest view

And she's hooked to the silver screen..."

I felt so stupid. Why was I singing at all, let alone to a child that I did not even know? And why not a child's Lullaby? That song I knew had come to me simply because I had heard it only a few days earlier. Stupid, but it had always been one of Evan's favorites. I never understood it until that very moment but as I recited to words, I began to understand why it did in fact make sense - not just to him, but to all of us. Evan, Neville, Draco, Harry and myself - all of us - we are all lost children. I am now responsible for three of them... Is that it then? Is that what I am? Severus Snape, the guardian to lost children?

"But the film is a saddening bore

For she's lived it ten times or more

She could spit in the eyes of fools

As they ask her to focus on

Sailors fighting in the dance hall

Oh man! Look at those cavemen go

It's the freakiest show

Take a look at the Lawman

Beating up the wrong guy

Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know

He's in the best selling show

Is there life on Mars?"

I was so lost in the song - so lost in realization of what I have become - that I never even noticed her standing just feet from me. Narcissa - dear god how long had she been there!?

I fell silent and instantly made to hand Draco off to her as I begged her forgiveness, "I am so sorry! Please forgive me - he - he was crying - I"

"There is no need to apologize at all Severus," she said quietly. Narcissa was still smiling - just as she had been when I finally came to notice her. She took two steps forwards and took him then from me saying, "Thank you for looking after my son," then she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, "I can not tell you what it means to me to know that Draco will have someone to look after him once he begins school." She paused and stared wordlessly at the floor for a moment as she ran her hand through her son's hair. Then she looked back up at me with her sad eyes and said, "You will make an excellent professor Severus. Thank you again."

She hugged Draco tightly and then left the room. Dear God what the hell had just happened? Even now hours later I cannot bear the weight of all that was said and unsaid in those brief moments between she and I. I have never liked Lucius, and while I am fairly certain he does not treat her any where near as badly as my father treated my mother - I still shudder to think what that she and that boy must face in that house.

I glanced back at the empty crib. The boy is safe. All of them - in one way or another they are safe and with their families. I think I shall never hear the sound of children crying and not think on that night and falter... Still, I did recover from my madness tonight. As awful as it was to face Draco - I did managed. I helped him I think. It was the wrong child and yet, I am not sorry that I tired to help him... Maybe I can do this.

Upon that thought I found my courage and joined the others for dinner. The elf seated me between Avery and a witch that I did not know. Neither he nor anyone else seemed to notice my tardiness - except of course for Narcissa who only smiled at me from across the long table. She held Draco on her lap thorough dinner. Lucius seemed irritated by this at first but if it truly angered him, he made a good show of it. He smiled at all the right times, he knew when to speak and when to listen - he played the part so perfectly. Lucius will lead them all now for certain in place of the Dark Lord.

Avery on the other hand was almost as irritating as Karkaroff had been earlier. He wouldn't stop talking. I did my best to ignore him and focus on the true reason that I was there. I might not have been able to speak with anyone, but I did my best to remember all of the faces seated around the table. It was then that I noticed the two empty places set near the other end. I tried to think of who might be missing. Five minutes later when the two of them finally appeared I had to kick myself for not realizing who it had been - Alecto and Amycus. The pair emerged giggling, from a door at the back of the room. Not one person bothered to look up as they took their places and I could not blame them. I suddenly found myself wanting to listen to Avery rather than to think upon it.

"Have you heard?" Avery asked.

"Heard what?" I said as I finally managed to avert my gaze.

"Alecto will be coming into an inheritance as well. It won't quite be on the same level of mine," he just had to add, "But she has done well for herself. One of our aunts was always fond of her, and she has convinced her husband to leave everything to her. They say it had something to do with her being the last fury, something to that effect. Well, at any rate - one day I will take Rosier Manor, and she will inherit all of Torchwood Manor."

I said nothing at first, only speaking again to change the subject, "How is your other aunt? Has Jocasta been well?"

I did not bother to pay his response much mind. He spoke at length about her though. Awful.

I ignored him for a long while until he said a name - Black. He just had to tell me about his inheritance. Walpurgia Black had disowned him years ago, which everyone had known. But upon learning that her son was involved with the Death Eaters, it was said that she would be once again naming him as her heir above Bellatrix, though I don't see what difference it will make, seeing as they will both be in Azkaban before long.

For the remainder of the evening, I did my best to take in the other conversations around me. There was no further talk of politics or plans. The words were friendly and the mood seemed far lighter than it had when I had first entered. One could almost think that this was nothing more than a normal family gathering - if only one could forget that the group was all united by their revolting enthusiasm for genocide, terror and domination.

I hate it. The thought that once willing became one of them - that I am still one of them makes me want to throw myself from the tower and end it all. Does it matter that I sat with them tonight for the sake of her son? I still live among them. I feel no different... If anything I feel worse now that I am an adult, for now I truly see things for what they are.

Needless to say I was more than relieved when the evening ended. I was actually happy to return to the school to speak with Dumbledore. Anyone - anything, just get me out of that house. It was all I could do to keep a straight face when I thanked Lucius and bid him good night. I walked so quickly down the path to the gate - I would have run if I had known I wasn't being watched. Out past the gate I Disapparated. I have never been so relieved to feel the crushing weight and darkness pressing in upon me.

The moment I set foot onto the Hogwarts grounds I felt so tainted - I wanted nothing more than to take several baths and to clean my clothing then tear off my skin. Even if any of that would have helped me, I hadn't the time to do it. I had to get to Dumbledore to tell him all that I had seen.

"Sir?" I knocked on the door, praying that he would answer. A sudden panic washed over me. What if all that I had done tonight - promising to uphold the wishes of the Dark Lord - fraternizing with all of them had somehow caused everyone that remains to me to vanish? It was a stupid thing to think I know, but as I waited for Dumbledore to appear, I realized how afraid I was of being alone. Why did I fear such a thing? In that instant though, the door cracked open and I had no further time to think on the matter.

I heard Dumbledore's voice and was instantly relived. "There you are, its good to see you Severus, I have been waiting for you."

He was waiting for me. He cared - or did he? Was it my safe return, or the information that I carried that he had waited for so eagerly? "Sir," I began with out a moment's hesitation. I started telling him all that I had heard and said - even before I had fully entered the room. He seemed amused of course, but I did not care. I wanted to tell him everything as quickly as possible to make certain that I did not forget anything important.

I was able to repeat everything that was spoken in the room with Lucius and the others, as well as the conversations between myself, Karkaroff, Avery and Philip Rosier. I even told him about Avery, Black's and Alecto's inheritance. I left out my near encounter with the Torchwood's however, and I certainly did no breathe a word of how I had tried to comfort the Malfoy boy. None of that was of any true importance. My only true concern was the conversation that had taken place in the small room.

All the while Dumbledore did not say a word or show any concern himself what so ever. He just watched me speak and nodded occasionally.

"You are not the least be troubled by this!? They mean to use her son as a standard!" I insisted. Dumbledore still sat calmly - completely unmoved by anything that I had reported.

"Severus, I am not at all surprised by anything that you have told me," he explained as he steepled his fingers together.

How could he just sit there!? "Sir, the mean to use the boy to advance their cause!"

He nodded a bit then said sleepily, "All the more reason for you to look after Harry. You did well tonight Severus, and now that all this business of the Malfoy gathering is behind us I trust you would like to visit your mother."

My mother!? It was nearly midnight, was he mad? Did he really expect me to go straight to her in the middle of the night with the taint of the Malfoys and their guests still upon me? "Sir, I think it would be best if I were to wait until morning."

"As you wish Severus, come back to my office tomorrow morning when you are ready and I will take you straight to Saint Mungos." He stood up then and walked me to the door. I found myself wishing he would say something to me - anything. I needed him to tell me something - something more than just, "you did well."

What that is, I do not know - but I still wish he would say it. I wish someone would say it. I don't know what else to write. Somehow tomorrow I must face my mother after all that I have done tonight. All of my lies and deceits and the time spent with those who... Draco. "Life on Mars."

That is it. Maybe that is what I needed to be told - I need to be reminded of why I am doing this - of what I am. I am the Guardian for Lost Children.

And lest I forget this tomorrow I must be reminded that I am soon to be one. That is the reason I fear to be alone then isn't it? Once I lose my mother, I will be truly alone. Alone save for the lost children that I will protect in secret for the rest of my life.

So be it. It is my fault that most of them are lost in the first place.

I must sleep now. I must be strong enough to face my mother tomorrow.


	19. Chapter 19

~Monday 21 December - Near dawn

I haven't had time for anything.

It is so frustrating having to go through with this illusion, pretending to teach when I have so much on my mind. I get so caught up in this act that I forget that I once had dreams and aspirations of my own - that I was once more than a pawn in someone else's game. I know, I gave up my dreams the moment that I became a Death Eater but- no. There is no sense looking back on all that. I never had much hope anyway. I have no dreams now. I ask only to be left alone to brew healing draughts for my dying mother. I cannot even do that, for now I must worry about the students, the Malfoys, and worst of all, Dumbledore - for I am his pawn now.

I must have some small thing that is my own. I must try to at least keep up with my journal. Perhaps if I write now, - catch myself up on the last few days, then I can quiet my mind enough to think clearly. I must be focused I cam to to properly brew this potion for my mother.

My mother... right, that is where I left off in my writing. It was Sunday, the day after the Malfoy Christmas Party. I remember going to sleep very late after I had gotten back. I feared to fall asleep and to face the next day for I felt so disgusted with myself. All of the things that I did and said in their presence - even my having been in their presence was unforgivable. I feared to have to face my mother. It is so terrible to see her so sick in Saint Mungos, but what I truly hated most was the fact that I would have to face her with the taint of the Malfoys still upon me.

When I awoke however I suddenly felt such an overwhelming feeling of purpose. For these past few months I kept telling myself that I was eternally devoted to protecting her son, but upon that morning - I _felt_ it. It was a divine sense of duty - such that I have not felt since my final years in school when I was so determined to do well in my classes - but this is different, for this task is not nearly as selfish. I am here to look after not only her son, but all of the students. I am to be their silent guardian, protecting them from the shadows. No one need ever know - and in the shadows I will be free to feel as I will. I can do this and still brew potions to heal my mother. The elation I felt at the prospect of accomplishing those tasks was so powerful.

There was something else that I felt that morning as well. I did not feel fearless or even brave - but I did feel stronger somehow. I had been afraid to face the Malfoys and their guests, but I for all of my fears, I managed it. The only thing that truly frightened me was the thought that I might fail, but I did not do so. I walked among them and returned unscathed. I took such perverse joy and pride in that thought - it was as if I were a student returning from a night of drinking and snogging after having left the school grounds without getting caught.

I allowed myself to revel in the thought for a few brief moments as I readied for the day, but all joy was dashed as I began to pack the completed potion that I had made for my mother. For all of my confidence, I began to doubt in the thing's potency. I knew that the other two draughts that I was still in the midst of brewing would have a greater chance of helping her, and at that, I was reminded of why I must be focused upon my work...

Visiting her on that day was dreadful. She did little more than lie in her bed in mutter my father's name. I gave her a bit of the potion, and it was a struggle - for she seemed convinced that only muggle medicine could help her. I had to lie and tell her that it was in fact Muggle medicine. Another lie - just as I lie to her when I tell her that my father will soon return...

I feel so terrible lying to her. I lie to protect the boy, but must my lies and deceits extend to her as well? As I sat with her, I kept thinking of how frail and lost she is. How can I tell her that he has died? She loves only him. She thinks sometimes that I am him, and I pretend to be just to ease her fears. I sit still wrong if I do this for her sake?

She doesn't know. She doesn't know any of it. She doesn't know that I killed Lily and James. She doesn't know about the boy or all of the things that I have done since then - how I lie and say that I am a professor - how I lied during my trial. Dear God I can only hope that she never knew about my having become a Death Eater. It is highly unlikely she did not - for she had no ties to the Wizarding World by the time I took the Dark Mark. She would never have picked up a _Daily Prophet_ or heard tell of the things that happened. She lived only in his world.

What difference does it make? I still did all those things despite her ignorance. I ran away from home after my seventh year - I never even said good bye. Her mind was gone, but somehow - she must have _known_. I abandoned her. Cruel as it was, I did far worse for when I joined the Death Eaters - I placed her in grave danger. All of our families were at risk should any of us displease him. What if I had failed in some mission? He would have gone after her and I_ knew_ it. I did my best to keep my head down and do as he wished so that no harm would ever come to her. Dear God, she could have killed as well.

That realization strengthened my resolve so that when Dumbledore came to accompany me back to Hogwarts, I immediately began work on the potions that I had been preparing for her. When work was completed on them, I began researching any other draughts that might help her. I didn't sleep, I stopped only to teach my classes the following day.

Nothing truly noteworthy occurred during my classes on Monday. I gave the students reading assignments while I did my own reading. I didn't learn much, and I suspect that most of them did not either.

I visited my mother after my final class and was dismayed to learn that the potion that I had given to her the night before had not helped her at all. She was still distant, speaking only to ask after my father - ignoring me unless she momentarily mistook me for him. That potion was meant to help restore some of her mind, and I failed her. The other draughts I am making to combat the cancer that is killing her - I _must_ perfect them. I must not fail her. Thursday - by Thursday the one that I have the most faith in will be finished. I must not fail her.

Dumbledore brought me back to Hogwarts around nine - early enough in the evening and yet still he told me that I should get rest as he always does. True, I had not slept since Saturday, but I could not sleep. I still have yet to find a fourth draught to help her should the others fail.

I stayed up reading until it was nearly Midnight. I finished all three of the books that I had borrowed from the Library. Nothing. Still I could not sleep. I had meant to go back to the Library - I don't know why I did it... but as I was passing by the dorms something was bothering me. The skulls - the passwords that would not work for me - the passwords that _they_ keep changing. I hated the four older prefects for their obnoxious behavior towards the other students and myself - but being denied access to my former home was going too far.

I did it to spite them. I did it because I _could_ - their efforts to stop me had failed. I entered the dorms through the underwater passage that none of them know of. I walked silently and unseen through the darkened corridors of Slytherin, eventually reaching the Common Room. No one saw me hiding behind the pillar. They never do. They are all far too arrogant to think such things could even occur.

I heard the familiar shouts. A rally of sorts was taking place. One of the wretched older prefects was holding court, calling out to the others and making certain that everyone heard her threats and discontent with her fellow classmates. As I stood trying to discern the words, I realized that the speaker was neither Joan nor Matilda. I peered around the column and saw that the girl who roared threats to the terrified students was no prefect at all. It was _her_ - I knew her. She was that beastly auburn haired girl - the one who sat beside Vrennon Stanhope. Adel was her name - Adel Eden. Her face was almost pretty - almost. It would have been but for the grimace she always wore upon it.

She was furious over something, that was plain, but it took a few moments to understand what it was she had been on about. Quidditch. She was furious over the recent Slytherin loss. Adel is not on the team so why she was so upset about the failures of the team I do not know.

I hated the way that she yelled. He used to yell at me like that. He used to make such threats as well. I was so small and he was more than twice my size back then...

This girl - she is huge. She is so broad shouldered and so tall she might well have been a man. Vrennon is a fairly muscular boy - but even he looked small beside her. If she were to make good on her threats, students would be sent to the hospital wing in scores. I began to worry that she would do it, and from the looks that I saw upon the faces of the students I knew that my fears were well founded. Those students looked as frightened as I had when he -

No. He is dead. He cannot hurt me, but this girl - She was still screaming and able to hurt others.

I had been blinded by my own fears as I stood there. I had failed to see that Albert Runcorn, Joan Ogden, Elwyn Edgecombe and Matilda Westin all stood by her side - and just as I recalled how much I fucking hate those four horrid prefects - I remembered just why I am so fond of the younger two. Andre Boyle and Elissa Deverille made their way through the crowd and began to speak out against her. When the pair reached the press of Matilda's supporters - Elissa began forcing people - even boys bigger than she - out of her way! "Adel," she cried in defiance, "You will do no harm to anyone on the Quidditch team - or to their friends! You are not going to bludgeon anyone - do you understand me?"

"No," the monster of a girl replied. The others laughed.

Elisa did not hesitate in her response, "Then let me make it plain so that it will penetrate that overly large head of yours. If you mean to hurt anyone - you are going to have to go through me first."

Many of the students fell silent at her bold statement - but Adel only laughed a deep throaty laugh. "Who is going to stop me - you and you're scrawny book worm friend there - and maybe your_ other _boyfriend!"

The others laughed at the reference to her other boyfriend, but I did not understand what she meant.

"Shut it Adel." Andre said in a smaller but forceful voice. "I will stand in your way as well if that is what it takes, but you won't do anything. There are enough witnesses her tonight that you have not managed to frighten, bribe or bend to your little circle. There are still enough of us to stop you. Now off to bed all of you!" I could hear fear in his voice when he spoke, and I knew that Adel had heard it as well. Still, students were backing away - even Runcorn and Matilda had taken a few steps back. I was confused - but then I saw it. I saw what had given him the courage to speak - and what was truly causing the others to flee. I had to laugh.

The Bloody Barron had appeared just behind Adel. He let out such a horrific wail that sent most of the younger students and even a few of the older ones feeling from the room. It was good to see that he could still frighten students - especially that group who act as if they know everything and fear nothing.

Andre and Elisa remained to stand their ground against Adel. She in turn seemed more angry then ever as she looked down to them and scowled, "You had both better watch it, no ghost will come to save you the next time you interfere." She stomped off with Matilda and the others after that. She may have acted tough when she spoke, but I could see it. If the beast girl had been born with a tail - it would have been between her legs.

It was pleasant, to see those whom I hate defeated - at least for a time. As I swam back into my room beneath the dark stone walls however, I grew disappointed in myself. I of all people should know the importance of stoping such a bully, and yet, I cannot do it. Instead, a boy just as small as I and a girl no bigger than he stood up to the throng - alone.

Thank God for those two. They will look after the students. God knows that I cannot. Finally I shook off the incident and visited the Library as I had meant to do. I found another set of books and began to read. The hour grew late and I began having trouble concentrating. I thought that if I wrote that it would help, but it has only exhausted me. I must sleep - if only for a few hours so that I will be able to function tomorrow. Tomorrow - I must finish her healing draughts... I must not fail her.

~Tuesday 22 December - Cold, Late

One more day, one final day of classes before the start of the holidays and then I can focus my full attention to her. She is not getting any better.

I was able to work a bit during my classes today. While the students worked on simple assignments I worked on the two draughts I have been preparing for her...

I completed the one while the others were at lunch. Of the three potions, it was the least promising but I meant to try it all the same. The final potion will not be ready until sometime next week. After the last of my students finally left me, I packed up the potion and began to walk towards Dumbledore's Office. As I made my way to the stair case, I came upon Trelawney loitering in the hallway just outside of The Great Hall. She was hiding behind a suit of armor trying remain unseen - so I gave her the curtesy of pretending that I had not seen her. I hid behind a second suit of armor on the opposite side of the hall.

The sound of distant singing began to drift down the corridor. The _choir_ - right. Tonight was to be the Christmas concert. I strained to hear as she must have been. The moment I heard the melody begin however, I was sorry that I had. Flitwick's students sang in such sweet haunting voices... were it any other song it would have been beautiful, but the song that they sang was The Coventry Carol. It was too much to bear.

_Lully, lullay, Thou little tiny Child,_

_Bye, bye, lully, lullay._

_Lullay, thou little tiny Child,_

_Bye, bye, lully, lullay._

_O sisters too, how may we do,_

_For to preserve this day_

_This poor youngling for whom we do sing_

_Bye, bye, lully, lullay._

_Herod, the king, in his raging,_

_Charged he hath this day_

_His men of might, in his own sight,_

_All young children to slay._

_That woe is me, poor Child for Thee!_

_And ever mourn and sigh,_

_For thy parting neither say nor sing,_

_Bye, bye, lully, lullay._

By the time they had reached the second verse I could not breathe. It is just a song, but it is real for me, too real. As quietly and quickly as I could I slid out from behind the suit of amour and left the hall. I went back the way that I had come and made certain to take the long way to his office so that she would not see me. There was no reason for me to hurry there anyway for Dumbledore would not be in his office. Surely he was attending the concert, but I entered the empty room anyway. I had to hide somewhere while I waited for him to take me to my mother.

I stood alone in the red and gold room trying desperately to ignore the portraits and the bird. _Books._ There were books every where - perhaps one of them held the secret to cure my mother's ailments. I could go through them while he was not there - the options of the portraits be damned but somehow I could not do it. As much as I hate him, I could not see fit to defile his office by rummaging through his things without permission. So I stood waiting.

When Dumbledore did return, he began instantly to gush about the concert of course. I prayed silently that he would not bring up the problematic song. He did not. We walked to the gates while he discussed the gossip surrounding the trial of the Lestranges and the Crouch Boy - as if I cared about any of that.

When finally we reached my mother's room he left me and I breathed a sigh of relief once he had gone. Seeing my mother made me feel even better for she was sitting up! She was propped up on many pillows, but she was not lying down for a change. I asked one of the Healers if my mother had improved at all, but she said that she hadn't. My heart sank, for when my mother spoke, I knew it to be true.

She turned her head in my direction, but her eyes looked right through me, "Tobias?" she asked of me.

"He is still at work."

"When will Tobias come home?"

"Soon," I told her as I took my usual seat beside her. Giving her the potion was as difficult as ever.

"No, no," she muttered as she kept turning her head away... "Not magic no..."

"It is Muggle medicine, I promise," I whispered as I tried to spoon it to her.

"Tobias wouldn't like it..." she whispered back to me as she pushed my hand away, "Where is he."

"He is on his way home, but first you have to take this. He would want you to take it," I lied to her.

Would he though? He hated magic, but if magic could save his wife - would he really deny her magic if it meant the difference between life and death?" I honestly did not know what he would have said.

She took it eventually, and before long she fell asleep as she always does. Before I left I informed the Healer that I had given her a few potions to help her, I felt I should lest in interfere with anything they might be doing for her. The Healer was not as upset as I thought she would be. Of course she tried to tell me not to do so in future - that they were doing all the could for her already. "I am sure it won't hurt her, but you must understand that sometimes, even the best of Healers cannot restore a patient, particularly an unwilling one." The Healer looked at me then - she looked at me with pity in her eyes. I hate it when people look upon me with pity. Finally she dropped her gaze and walked away.

My mother may have given up, they may have all given up on her - but I will not. I must not fail her, and so I have been awake since I have returned trying to accomplish the act of creating a forth potion - for I have found one that I think might help. Classes are going to occur soon, I should get some sleep but... I must not fail her.

~Wednesday 23 December - early evening

I did not sleep. How could I sleep with her dying and that song repeating in my head.

_His men of might, in his own sight,_

_All young children to slay._

_That woe is me, poor Child for Thee!_

_And ever mourn and sigh,_

_For thy parting neither say nor sing,_

_Bye, bye, lully, lullay._

He will not return. He will not return for her son he will not. I know this and yet, the words gnaw at me... sharp teeth tearing me up from within.

The boy is safe, the boy is safe...my mother...

It was a half day today to allow the students time to travel home. Silence and still I work. I sat with her again tonight. She slept and so I read. I learned of no new brews to make for her but I did find some information to aid me in the one that I am completing for her now.

I will work a bit more tonight, and tomorrow I will leave the school for the duration of the holidays to spend Christmas in the Closed Ward with my mother.

~Wednesday 23 December - near Midnight

Lully, lullay I cannot sleep... bye bye lullay - why is it that Trelawney remained outside in hiding and did not enter into the Great Hall? Is it that she too feels that she does not belong in this place as I do? So often I forget how I have condemned her. So often do I forget just how many I lives I have destroyed...

I tried to sleep, I have been trying to sleep for the last hour for I am exhausted and can no longer concentrate to make her potions...

Am I half mad in thinking that I can really heal her? Have I gone wholly mad when they keep telling me that she is dying?

But she is my mother. She _is_ my mother, I am not ready to say that she was...

~Thursday 24 December - Morning

I must have finally fallen asleep for I just awoke from a vivd dream, a memory from my childhood. She was with me - my mother as she once was. I remember it so well. It was just a day, no different from any other. I was nine years old and home from my Muggle school sick with a Muggle illness. She had kept me home from school and given me a Pepper Up Potion as she always would. I was recovered for the most part, but she would always permit me the day off from school.

He was gone - at work, or else she would never have been able to give me the medicine. But he was gone and so we sat together in the kitchen as the rain fell down in heavy sheets over the windows. I could barely make out the garden beyond them. She was making tea and I was waiting. She told me that she had a surprise for me. I was excited, hoping it would be something magical. I can remember how I kicked my feet back and forth underneath the table - hardly able to contain myself at the thought of being shown more magic.

"Close your eyes!" she said from the living room beyond.

I did as I was told and covered my face with my hands.

"Are you peaking Severus?" I could hear her say as she walked into the room and placed something before me upon the table.

"No!" I was trying not to laugh.

I could tell that her face was nearly in mine as she continued placing objects on the table, "I don't know, I think I see your eye peering out from between your fingers!"

"I'm not peaking!" At that I couldn't sop laughing.

"Well you might as well open them now," she said taking the seat across from me.

I literally gasped when I saw them. They were beautiful - two dozen orbs glittered before me like field full of faerie lights. "_Gobstones!_"

"Yes. I did tell you that I would teach you to play when you were old enough did I not? Well, you can't play if you do not have your own set. Now you do," as she said this she slid them towards me.

"These are mine?" I said excitedly, but even then I knew, and suddenly I felt a pang of guilt. "These are _yours_ -"

"Yes, I won many tournaments with them, and now they are yours!" She was grinning from ear to ear. She seemed so thrilled to pass them on to me, but they had been _hers_. She was a champion once and I knew how much the game had meant to her - how could I take them from her? She had already given me so much of her own things. We had no money... I was used to the hand me downs - but this was different. Even at nine, I knew how great of a sacrifice it had been for her.

What could I say to her? I thanked her of course but thank you is far to weak of a phrase to express what it was that I truly felt.

"You are more than welcome little one," she reached across the table and ruffled up my hair. "Now, it is time I taught you how to play. You had best pay very close attention and learn quickly if you ever hope to have a chance of beating me - and do not think that I will go easy on you or let you win as I did when you were a little boy all those times we played Muggle board games!"

She grinned such a wicked grin at that. She wasn't kidding either. She beat me over and over no matter how much skill I gained over the years. She used to laugh so hard when those stupid fucking stones exploded in my face - and on the rarest of occasions when I would win and she would get hit in the face I would practically dance about the room in triumph. She would laugh even harder at that...

Her Gobstones - my Gobstones... Still in the top left drawer in the box with the brass fastenings. How could I ever forget - I may have misplaced many things when I left home but those I always treated with such reverence...

She must have them back - but do I dare go back there? I swore that I would never set foot in that house. Yet I have labored so hard at creating healing draughts - surely I can go to the house to so that I might return the Gobstones to my mother. Potions may have failed to restore her wits but surely taking something that she once loved into her hand again will restore some part of her happiness - won't it?

And Dumbledore - even he would not object to taking me back there in order to retrieve the Gobstones set for her. As soon as the sun has fully risen I will ask him to take me to Cokeworth before he leaves me at Saint Mungos.

There. I will bring her the latest potion that I have finished for her, and her old Gobstones. Surely that will help her in some small way. It _has _to help...

~Thursday 24 December - Night, Christmas Eve. Sitting by her side in Saint Mungos.

I went to the house. Dumbledore did not object, nor did he ask too many questions. He merely stood outside and waited for me. Still, I really didn't see why that was necessary. More perilous was it for me to walk through Malfoy Manor alone than it would be to venture off to my own childhood home. Still, I kept my head down and ran through the place as quickly as I could - scarcely daring even to breathe. The Gobstone Set was just as I had left it. With careful hands I removed it from the drawer then fled hastily from the house.

The return to the house was as bad as I thought it would be.

I have been here with her for almost an hour now. He left me here. I am not to return to Hogwarts until the holidays have ended.

I thought things would be different.

When first I placed the Gobstones in her hands, I thought for sure that she would recall them and say something sensible... Even if she were to have muttered some fragment of remembered strategy I would have been happy, but she said nothing. I kept telling her what they were. I kept reminding her of the day that she had given them to me and of how she taught me how to play but still she said only the word "no," over and over - refusing even to close her hand around the stones.

"They belonged to _you_. You loved them. You were a champion and the head of the Hogwarts team." I held them close to her eye so that perhaps the color of them would jar her memories.

"No, no..." she would say if she saw anything at all. A few times she said my fathers name but nothing else. She did not even ask after him today.

"I could make one explode in my face - you used to love that when I was little! Do you not remember all of the times that you defeated me and laughed? Shall I make it happen so that you might laugh at my expense as you once did," but she did not answer me.

She faded back into slumber. Nothing stirred in her memories at all, so I sat alone - holding the colored orbs in my hands. I could not help but to think back on all that she had given to me over the years. First her own school books, then her prized Gobstones, her robes, her caldrons and her entire store of potion supplies. Save for her wand, my mother had given me everything magical that she had ever owned. I began to master the arts with them at Hogwarts, while she herself lost the ability to perform magic entirely. It is almost as if she had given that to me as well.

I wish I knew what more I could do for her. I have one of the potions with me... I will try that tomorrow. Today, I just cannot suffer another failure.

~Friday 25 December - Christmas Day - late afternoon

It was a struggle to get her to take the potion, but she took it. I set up the Gobstones on her bedside table despite my earlier failures and tried to get her to play. This time she seemed to recognize them but still she said, "No... no Tobias..."

"He is at work and will not be home until much later in the day. Why don't we play now before he gets back," I took her he hand and placed it upon one of the stones, "Your move first. I promise to put up a good fight - I know you like a challenge."

She jerked her hand back. "No! No... evil..."

Evil. So that was it then. _Evil._ She remembers well enough what they are, but she thinks back only upon his opinion of the thing. Was it not bad enough for him to torment her and I over the years - to deny her the use of magic!? Did he also have to warp her view of religion as well?

There was a time when Magic and her religion were of equal importance to her. Where is the woman who could live in both worlds?

Of course - today - of all days must I be reminded of the change in her... My mother was always a devote Catholic, they both were - but his view of things was far different. He was so strict and so rigid in his views. They way he treated the act of attending church services - it was more of a military operation rather than an expression of devotion. Far more important to him, was the outward appearance - the satisfaction of acting the part perfectly.

When she prayed, there was true passion behind her words. To her, the angels and the saints were to be called upon for help and for strength. To him, there was only guilt and punishment. Always he acted so superior - the way he spoke of things - but even as a child I doubted that he knew half of the things that my mother did. She, I knew had truly _read_ the bible - in English and in Latin. She knew enough to read, and to read between the lines - but he could never see beyond what he chose to see.

She knew... but he was so good at convincing her of how ignorant she was. She wasn't ignorant at all, but he told her such things so often that eventually she began to believe it. She lost everything to him - her magic, her happiness, her sanity - and now even her view of religion is gone.

I can't tonight. It is all too much. Even from the grave he controls her. I hate him still. My only hope is that the potion will begin to heal her, but it will take a few more hours to take its full effect, so I cannot be certain of anything until the morning...


	20. Chapter 20

~Saturday 26 December - Cold, morning

Still in Saint Mungos sitting beside my mother, who could not be farther away from me. She might as well have flown across the ocean. The potion that had created for her is not helping at all. She still is locked away in her mind - gone from me while the cancer slowly kills her. Most of my hopes were in that potion. The other draughts that I had found were even less promising. Perhaps I am fighting a losing battle. I know deep down that I must begin to accept it - but it feels so wrong to give up on her.

I thought that I had done the right thing by retrieving the Gobstone set that she had given to me when I was young and returning it to her. Perhaps she may never physically recover, but I thought for certain that I could bring her back through the Gobstones that had once meant so much to her. She was a champion after all. I keep trying to get her to play, but She refuses me every time.

I could accept it if she had simply forgotten - but she views them now as evil. She only thinks this because _he_ thought that all magic was evil. She never used to think such things.

This is all his fault - he did this to her. He robbed her of her self worth - he caused her to shut down - just as he did me. It wasn't enough to ruin her, he had to warp her view of religion and use it as yet another weapon against her. It is no wonder that she fell apart when one of the last things that gave her comfort became something to fear.

This isn't her. She didn't use to be like this.

My mother was always a devote Catholic, even as a girl living with a magical family. He was too of course, and that is how they met - for the church they both frequented was placed perfectly between their homes. She used to tell me how she fancied him - how she would steal glances at him and how he would smile at her from the pew across the way from her. Even now it sickens me to think of it.

She lived in both worlds as most magical families do, but when she began to grow closer to him, so too did she grow closer to the Muggle world - much to the chagrin of her family. She never spoke of them much, but I know that they had disowned her just before she left Hogwarts. Even still, she never let her faith interfere with her feelings about magic. For him, magic was quite another matter.

To him, the words Witch, Spells and Magic were synonymous with the Devil. His hatred of all that he viewed as evil knew no limits. I cannot begin to imagine how he reacted when she finally revealed to him what she was, what I would be.

I asked her once, when I was thirteen how she had told him... She was hesitant, but I wouldn't let it go. She finally told me that she sat him down and explained everything to him just before I was born. He left her for almost week while he went back to his mother's home - he was not ready for such a shock according to what she said. I still have nightmares about it, how it must have really happened...

I am lucky to have been born really, but then what choice did he have? His religion forbids such things. He could have burnt her at the stake I suppose, but then he was always so concerned with what the neighbors would think - which was ridiculous of course, for all of Cokeworth could hear him when he screamed.

He was always so angry - always so resentful to have to be stuck with his evil wife and her bastard born of Satan. He knew that I was his of course, and that only made him more angry. He never let us forget just how evil she and I were.

Evil child. Evil Slytherin. Evil Death Eater. I'm going to be sick. I need to leave this room for a while.

~Sunday 27 December - late in the evening.

The days are long and there is no one that I can speak with... There are of course the Healers, but they do little more than politely nod hello. What would I have to say to them anyway?

So I am stuck here, trapped and alone with my thoughts. Still I am troubled by all that I remembered and wrote about last night. My feelings have changed since childhood of course, but truth be told there is still some part of me that continues to believe. I once thought it all so real when I was young.

I was so certain of it, for she believed it as well and as she began to fall victim to him, so to did her fear of Evil and Sin. It is easy for me to brush it off now - to be frustrated with her for thinking that something as innocuous as Gobstones could be evil, but that is not a fair judgment of me to pass upon her. When I was young I too was trapped by the fear that he instilled in me. There was a time when the concept of Sin and Virtue very real to me.

In my last years at Hogwarts I was determined to be Virtuous. I was convinced that I could be if I worked hard and stayed away from my Slytherin friends. I nearly killed myself to perfect potions and do well in my classes. I tried so hard but once I realized that I could not win her back through Virtue, I fought with far less fury. In my loneliness I gave in and returned to my so called evil Slytherin friends.

I believed that I had fallen when I began to spend my time with them, and when I made love to a Slytherin girl who was not Lily - I thought the most abhorrent of Sins. Stupid - for the only Sin in it was that I did not treat that girl as well as I should have. By all rights she was my girlfriend. And Evan - was it such a Sin for he and I to skip classes to spend what little time we had left together doing something that made us laugh? Was it truly a Sin for him and Wilkes to love one another? Even when I was naive I never believed that. So why did I spend so much of my youth burdened by such an enormous sense guilt? I was naive, I made mistakes but I was not guilty. I not yet really sinned - not back then.

I became a Death Eater and when I left Hogwarts and took my place with them - that is when I stopped believing, not just in Catholicism - but in everything. I gave up and in my hopelessness, I destroyed everything that I ever loved.

It kills me now to look back upon it all and see how foolish I had been. All of that fear induced by something as trivial as religion. It wasn't real.

But it is real for my mother now. I tried to read to her from a spell book - but the moment that she hear me speak of spells - she became distressed and cried out "evil" over and over.

The irony of it - when they all sound so similar. How magical Latin incantations any different from than the Latin invocations of the saints? They are after all similar means to a very similar ends. All of this I know of course because that is how she taught me.

As soon as I could speak, she made me learn Latin. "You will see Severus, it will help you with your spell work and your study of scripture and ancient texts."

She was right of course, and I was always eager to learn. She would insist that I speak in both English and Latin when I asked her for things. She would deny my requests while grinning at me deviously until I asked her for the things that I wanted in Latin. I even had to ask her for my cereal in Latin...

I recited prayers and spells with her in the garden when he was not present. She taught me the names of the saints just as she taught me the names for plants, herbs and potions. Everything I know I learned form her in that garden. It was my favorite place - surrounded by stone walls though it was - it was the one place where we could escape.

So long as she and I went alone - the church was a pleasant place for me as well. I had only heard of Hogwarts and seen it in photographs, but I knew that the church was just a smaller version of the castle. The Latin prayers were practice for spells. We knelt in a stone cathedral with a high vaulted ceiling. We said the words as we knelt surrounded by candles, incense and stained glass. It was The Great Hall in my mind, and It was a place magic in its own way - so long as we were alone with out him.

I really did believe in the things that my mother told me. I believed in the Angels and the Saints - but with all that magic came Sin. In truth we were rarely alone that church, and when we got home, that is when he began to preach...

No. There was never any magic in it. I detest it now as I look at her and see how it has ravaged her mind, body and her spirit.

He was quite insulting enough on his own, did he really have to use scripture to back up his claims? It was absurd the way he would carry on when his tirades became religious. He'd reach a certain point in his anger and cry witch burning bullshit as if we were in some Arthur Miller play. I was never even convinced that he fully believed in all of that anyway - it was just something he used against us.

What difference does it make even if he had? Where is the evil in Magic? Muggle wars fought for religion cause far more devastation than any spell. Religion, like magic in the wrong hands can be used for evil. In the right hands both are a source of hope. Magic and religion are essentially same in the end, but all people like him will ever see is the insignificant differences.

I see no conflict, only ignorance.

There it is. Ignorance is the only true Sin. My Sin was to be ignorant - to give into fear and to have been weak enough to believe Lily was somehow different - and to have told her as much. My greatest Sin was to be ignorant of what he would do when I gave him the information. I did not want to see, and in my blindness...

I cannot write anymore. I just want to sleep now. I'd complain of sleeping in a chair, but I've slept in far worse places. I have no right to complain.

~Monday 28 December - Afternoon, but it is already dark. Storm Clouds. It will snow again

I feel still half asleep, though all I do is sleep. There is so little else to do... Perhaps I am making up for all of the sleepless nights I that I had spent researching healing draughts...

I was asleep just now, asleep and trapped in a dream. Another memory. I I forced myself to wake before it could come to its awful end as it had in life. I thought I had escaped, but now it is all that I can think about.

I was very young, four maybe five - standing with her in the hallway by the front door. "Hurry!" She said in a frantic but joyful whisper, "You can catch me if you try. If you don't catch me I won't be able to show you!"

I was laughing as I ran up the stairs behind her. I tried so hard to catch her, but in the end she had slowed down so as to let me reach her. She was opening the door to her room smiling mischievously. I couldn't wait - "Show me! I caught you - I want to see what it is!"

"OK, but you have to be very quiet," she whispered. It was a game, he wasn't home so it did not matter if we made noise. We played at this a lot, but to think back on it now, it was as if she was training me.

I kept laughing as she rummaged through the closet. The door was open just enough for her to slip one arm inside. She leaned against it almost as if she were trying to coax a wild animal forward - but careful not let it escape. "Is that? Nope, not that one. This - oh no, thats the coat that _bites _if you tug at it too rough!"

"No it _doesn't!_" I said barely able to control my laughter. I knew she was pretending, but she acted it all out so well. There was part of me almost did believe that the clothes in that closet were alive, wild and untamed behind that old wooden door.

"I've got it!" she said finally, "Come on, come closer Severus - just don't frighten it!'

"_Mum!_ It's not really alive!" but still I crossed the floor quietly - just in case it was.

"You silly boy, of course it is. _This_ one is. This one is special," she reached all the way in, pulling whatever it was forward.

When she held it before me, I stopped dead in my tracks and stood completely in awe. It was like nothing I had ever seen before in my life. Long black satin cascaded form the hanger - waves of shimmering blue light reflected from the folds of the fabric. She turned it about in her hand and the emblem appeared - the green and silver serpent coiled about upon the woven crest. That was - _Slytherin!_

"Hogwarts!" I blurted out upon the realization. My mother was showing me her actual school robe. I instantly ran towards it with my arms outstretched. My fingers had scarcely brushed the robe and yet still I could feel it. There was magic woven throughout that black fabric. Frantically I leapt up and down as I tried in vain to reach for the hanger, but my mother held it up high by her head and I was too small.

She only laughed. "Severus, if you would like to try it on, all you need do is ask."

Still struggling - still desperate to hold it I cried out breathlessly - "Please _Please!_ May I please try it on - Please! _Oro!_ I beg you! Please"

"You silly boy. Vey well."

My mother helped me into her old robe, holding it out for me as I slid my arms into the long pointed sleeves. When she rested the satin school robe upon my shoulders I felt powerful. I felt alive in a way that I had never felt before.

"Now let me see you," she said turning me around by my shoulders. I will never forget the look upon her face when she had stepped back - taking in the site of me in her old school robes. "My little boy... What a wonderful Wizard you will be someday!" She truly was proud.

I held up my skinny arms - my hands still covered by the sleeves and ran towards her. Two steps and I'd tripped over the excessive fabric, for it was far too long on me - tall though I was for my age.

"Oh Severus!" She scooped me up, untangled me from her robe. When I realized she was taking it off of me I began to cry. The sudden weakness I felt once it had been removed from my body was unbearable. "Maybe in a few more years. Don't cry little one, I think I have something for you in the meantime."

With tremendous sorrow, I watched as she replaced her robe - hiding it from the world. My robe, when I finally grew into it - but by then I had become a foolish teenage boy - forgetting just how much it really meant. By then all I could think of was how much I hated my need for a hand me down robe. It didn't even last that long. Once I'd reached about fourteen, I could no longer wear it. My mother saved for so long to buy me a longer one... She did so much for me. I knew, I felt the guilt and yet still I feel I took it all for granted.

No, not when I was very young. I took nothing for granted as I stood there was a little boy, eagerly awaiting to learn when she meant when she told me she had something for me in the meantime. Again she fumbled in the closet. Again she pretended the clothing was alive. Finally she produced one of her old shirts. "Lets see you try it on!"

I was hesitant at first for it was no Hogwarts robe, but once she had helped me into it and rolled up the sleeves so that it would fit me, the effect was almost there. She showed me my reflection in the mirror - I looked just like she had in the photographs of her wearing her school robes. "You see," she told me as she knelt beside me - you _are_ magical. Keep it, and wear your little robe whenever you like - but, best not let your father see."

I nodded solemnly. I knew I should have listened to her. But I never wanted to take it off. It had only been a day, but already was so used to wearing it my mother's shirt - my robe. It had become a part of me. He came home. I heard the door - I jumped as I always did, but I didn't even think to take the thing off. His wrath when he found me... I ran to hide behind her - he started taking it out on her, accusing her for allowing me to take her things and wear them - and worse than that.

She tried to explain, but as usual he did not permit her the time to say one single word to defend herself. She did try... at least back then she did try - but it always ended the same way. She would hang her head and cry, and so would I.

After about an hour of it, I was finally sent to my room. I was told to never wear it again.

Fuck him. I hate him.

I cried myself to sleep that night, but I made damn sure that I wore it the next day - and every day after that. I wore it the moment that he left the house, I wore it to the playground, I even wore it to the Muggle school. They all laughed at me, but it wouldn't have mattered. They always laughed at me. Besides, they were too stupid to understand. One day, I would go someplace else - someplace better - someplace where none of them could go - some place where no one could make fun of me again...

I must leave this room and go for a walk about the ward. My mother is not in this room... not here. She is in my old robe, standing in front of the closet, kneeling beside me the garden. She is not here - and I am not here either.

~Monday 28, December - It has been about an hour

She still sleeps, in no way aware that I had even left her, or if I was even here to begin with. I want so much to tell her that he is gone and that he can no longer hurt us - but that will not make her happy.

The loss of him to her is as devastating as the loss of Lily has been to me. Neither of us chose well in our own ways. She loved a man who was not good enough for her. I loved a girl who was too good for me.

I don't even know what happened to her shirt. Mum... please wake up, please.

~Tuesday 29 December - Sunlight, late afternoon.

Were it not for my writing, I would not be able to keep track of the days. They are all the same. In terms of my mother that is. Frank Longbottom, and even Alice seem to have improved to a certain extent. Several times I have seen them up and about, though their speech is still as incomprehensible as that of my mother...

The child visits each day with several relatives. One of I take to be his grandmother. She is always the one that I see holding him - a frightful thing to think for she always wears a large ugly hat with an even larger and uglier stuffed vulture atop the thing. To be a child and look up at such a menacing creature must be terrifying indeed.

He cries when he is brought into the room. His mother does not speak, but insists upon holding him when she sees the boy. Watched closely by the grandmother she is always permitted to hold him, then and only then does the boy stop crying.

I still experience the same terror at the sound of children crying. Still I see that room and hear her son. Still, ever since the night that I picked up Draco to comfort him I am far less afraid when the Longbottom boy cries.

How darkly fitting that it should have been the Malfoy boy through which I overcame my fear of small children screaming. The Death Eater's boy I could hold in my tainted arms. To him I could sing as if he were my own, but her boy I could not even bear to look at - let alone embrace.

This is going to be a disaster, my looking after her son.

~Wednesday 30 December - Cold blue Moonlight enters the window...

"Mum?" I ask of her as I write.

She stares blindly at the ceiling in response. Part of me wants to flee from this room and leave her, just as the same part of me wants to leave Lily's son and abandon him to his fate. He is Potter's son, and he... Were it not for me he would still have a father. For her - for my guilt I will force myself to do this. And sick though she is - I still have my mother, which is far more than her son will ever have so I will force myself to stay in this room.

Forgive me, I do love you Mum, but I am afraid. Tell me what to do. Tell me how to look after you. Please. I beg of you. Tell me how to look after these children. Who am I? I am a selfish git, a liar, and a murderer. I am no hero - here to look after her son. I wasn't even a good son to you.

~Thursday 31 December - The light fails, and with it the year

She spoke to me, or so I thought she did but I was only dreaming. I wish I could recall what it was that she had said, but the only thing that I can remember is that I dreamed about her garden. I dreamed about the night we spent there when I'd first come home from Hogwarts over the Christmas Holidays of my first term.

I remember that day well. The train ride was long, but Lily and I sat together in a train car with two of the girls with whom she'd shared a room. They did not much care for me, and I cared less so for them. She knew this of course, but still she did her best to keep the peace and we all played at Gobstones for much of train ride. I'd let her win always, and she knew. She smiled so sweetly...

At one point as we neared London, she left me and the girls to visit with another set of friends. I'd begun speaking with one girl about Bins and finally we'd found some common ground. We began to laugh as old friends, and so we were. Mary was her name. Mary MacDonald. She was always so kind to me.

So we talked and laughed for quite some time. Everything seemed fine until the door to our compartment slid open. I turned towards it - smiling for I had expected to find Lily. What I did not know was that the other girl had been friends with Black. It was he, Lupin, Potter and Pettigrew who stood at the door.

"Mary, Esmerelda, you might not want to stay for this." Potter announced. My chest tightened and I instantly felt a dark sickness take me over. I forced myself to appear angry to mask my terror.

Esmerelda giggled and ran off. Mary on the other hand stood up defiantly and told them that she would find a prefect if they did anything bad. My wand was drawn but Black disarmed me and cast a full body bind curse on me before I could act. As promised Mary ran off to find a Prefect. Black produced a pair of scissors. He cut off several handfuls of my hair while Potter started punching me. One blow was so hard that it knocked the wind from me, I thought I would suffocate before long - then just as my eyes began to dim, Lily, Mary and a tall Hufflepuff Prefect named Dale stood behind them. He freed me from the bind and took several points from Gryffindor - as if that mattered. The pain subsided, but the shame of my having been left so helpless in front of Lily stayed with me the rest of the way.

My hair - it was humiliating. Lily picked up several handfuls and together with Mary we attempted to reattach it with spells. I smiled and pretended not to care - I even laughed about it. I pulled my hood above my head and smiled. "See?" I said, and we all began to laugh. "You can't see - my hair is fine!" It was too much, I had to hide my eyes beneath my hood for a moment in order to fight back my tears - but I did it.

We reached London. I did my best to straighten myself out and hide the bruises, but I was still a mess. I remembered how mortified I was at the thought that my mother would see me in such a state. I didn't want her to know what I was. I never told her how the others treated me. She had no idea that I was such an outcast and a freak even at Hogwarts. She had no idea how had been a weakling - permitting the others to rough me up so bad all the time. There would be no hiding that from her any longer - not once she'd seen me in her torn robes with half of my hair gone and my sickly skin full of bruises.

God bless her, she smiled and pretended not to notice. "There you are Severus!" She said calmly. She wanted to pick me up and to hug me right there, I could see it in her eyes but she held back so as not to embarrass me in front of my classmates. I could see something else in her eyes - Pity. I hated it when the professors looked at me with pity - but this was far worse, for it was my mother. One look at me, and she knew. She knew I had been attacked and that this was more than a random occurrence. It was over. She knew what I was.

She did her best to hide her alarm. She smiled, ruffled up my uneven hair and said, "Mishap in Charms I see. Don't worry, My roommate once had such an accident. Singed off half of her hair when she'd meant to grow it long for a boy that she fancied! As it happened, I knew the perfect potion to repair the damage - and I can get all the ingredients needed to brew one tomorrow." With that she lead me away home.

I feared what my father would do, then just as my mother opened the door to our house, she turned back to look at me and gasp. I feared she had noticed seen another of the bruises left upon me from the attack, but those were all hidden beneath my shirt. "Your hair!" she cried out gleefully, "It's grown back all on its own! Severus, you truly are magical! Now you head upstairs and change out of your school things and I'll make you some tea."

I didn't believe her, I was too afraid to run my hand over my chopped up hair again. I had to look for myself. Sure enough, my reflection in the mirror of my dingy room showed my hair was as it had been. Long, black and lank. It reached evenly to my shoulders inspire of what Potter had done.

I felt more than magical, I felt _powerfu_l. Potter and Black had tried to get one over on me but my hair had a will and a strength all it's own. After all they had done - that they could never take from me.

I was happy to have my hair back, greasy as it was for it was _mine_ - but changing into Muggle clothing was something that I had been dreading for day. I had just finished dressing and was putting my books away when I heard the door slam. I leapt in fear and nearly dropped a full bottle of ink. No. No - not him. My heart sank. They were fighting.

He was shouting for my mother. He'd forgotten that I was coming home - or so he claimed. He was screaming because she had not reminded him of this. She stood her ground, telling him that she had reminded him. He wouldn't hear it, he just screamed at her until finally she gave up could only cry in response. I had to eat with them after that. He didn't speak to me, in fact he pretended not to notice me at all. I felt too sick and afraid to eat, I just kept waiting for his next outburst - afraid that any sudden movement would set him off.

Time passed in slow painful intervals until he pushed his chair back from the table - the earth shaking scrape of his chair upon the kitchen floor. That ominous sound _still_ haunts me. He announced that he was going to bed early, than stomped off to his room slamming the door behind him so loudly that it shook the house. My mother and I sat in silence, waiting to hear the door upstairs slam before either of us dared to breathe.

A lengthy pause, a tremulous whisper, "...Did you want me to reheat your stew Severus?"

A longer pause and an even more timid voice "...Yes please..."

After that we ate in almost peace. We did our best to get on as if nothing had happened - we even smiled a few times. Then with no warning my mother stood up suddenly and ran to the window. At first I couldn't understand, but then I saw it too - _Snow!_

We needed no words at all. Swiftly and silently she ran to the wardrobe in the front hallway to retrieve our winter coats. The with no sound at all, we slipped outside into the frost filled garden.

All of the herbs and rose bushes which had seemed so lifeless earlier that day came alive as the snow kissed each branch with new life. Everything seemed to shimmer with light and though we stood in a Muggle garden, I swear there were pixies and magical creatures flittering all about us the night air. I could hear the music of harps and celestas. Magical - that is the only way to describe it in words.

I watched my mother dance about in the falling snow as thicker snow flakes began to fall upon her roses. I joined her with no hesitation.

Noticing the child she knelt and put her arms around me as we watched the snowflakes fall.

Then it came to it - my dream - the part that I think I was meant to remember. I was not meant to recall the horrors of that day but what she said to me that night. For she knelt then, praying before the small stone statue of the Virgin Mother that she had placed in the garden.

I don't know what had come over me. I had seen her do this countless times over the years, but as I stood by her side and looked down at the statue of the woman crowned with glistening snowflakes I could no longer bear it, I had to know -

"Does she ever answer your prayers?"

My mother looked at me expressionless for a moment then she smiled and took my hand, "Yes she does. She sent me you after all."

"You asked for me?" I repeated, for even then I found such a thing hard to believe.

She held my hand tightly with both of hers. "Of course I did! Why ever would you doubt such a thing?"

Because I ruined your life, I might have said. Because if it had not been for me you would not have been forces to reveal your secrets to him. He would never have learned that you were a witch and he would never have - but I'd said it, "Mum, am I evil?"

"No Severus!" She said sharply, looking me deep in the eye. "You are _not_ evil. Never let anyone tell you that. The is no good or evil. Nothing is ever so simple. Even healing spells can be used for ill in the wrong hands, just as the three most unforgivable of curses can be used for good under the right set of circumstances."

But my fears were in no way allayed, for even now that makes little sense to me. I wanted to believe her, but I could not. Something else had been gnawing at me for as long as I could recall. "The Serpent. If we are Slytherins - I don't understand, the Serpent. Wasn't _he_ a serpent?"

"No." At this she took me firmly by the shoulders. "He only took the _form _of a serpent. More to the point, he did this to put Eve at ease and to seduce her. Would he have taken the form of a Serpent if it was truly something to be feared?"

"No," I said, though at that time I did not fully understand.

"No." she went on, "Serpents are not monsters. They are merely a part of this Earth just as any other creature." She looked at me knowingly, and there was such a light in her eyes... "Eve was no perpetrator of Original Sin either. They may say that of her - but they are wrong. Eve sought knowledge, and there is no Sin in knowledge - only responsibility. She carried the weight of that responsibility, as should all who attain such knowledge. Understand that Severus, Eve did was no Sin. Just as women bring life into the world, Eve merely paved the way for the rest of humanity. Eve did what Adam could not, for he was too afraid to take on the responsibility." She took my hand again and drew me down beside her. "Pray with me now Severus, pray in thanks to the Mother and to Eve. Pray for the grace of the Mother for the courage of Eve."

She was right about Serpents and Eve I think. But her courage it seems, never came to either of us. Yet when I recalled that snowy night in her garden just now, I recalled one of the few times that her faith ever brought me comfort. And while I may no longer find solace in her Catholicism, I think that I understand now just how much it means to her. She loves it as I do Magic. Did I not write earlier that there is no conflict - only ignorance?

I have been the ignorant one this time. I have been blind to her and to what she truly needs. I know now what I must do.

~Friday 1982 1 January - The sun has nearly escaped from the clouds

I went back to the house this morning. This time I did not return with anything magical, just her Rosary Beads. I placed them in her hand. For the first time in what seems to be ages, she opened her eyes and smiled. She seemed almost to see me.

I sat by her side, and I prayed the Rosary in Latin with her. She was able to do it. She spoke clearly, reciting nearly all of the prayers with me. It was not potion, and it was not Gobstones. It was not the cure that I had hoped for, but it was enough for her and I must accept that. I had been thinking only of myself. She needed to pray just as I need to perform magic and make potions.

She just wanted to pray...

She is dying. I will lose her no matter what potions I can give to her.

And if she never improves beyond what occurred today, than I must accept that somehow as well.

It hurts.

Tomorrow begins the new term. I will be very sorry to leave her, but I must be strong - for I must ready to face the students. It is the last thing I want to do. I am so heart sick with it all.

At least now I know how to comfort my mother when I visit her on the weekends. That will have to be enough for now. I have to be strong - for her.


	21. Chapter 21

~Monday 4 January - Late Evening - Cold, Star filled sky

The last few days with my Mother were much the same as New Years Day. She still has yet to fully regain consciousness, but when I take her hands and recite prayers with her in Latin she seems to stir and is able to speak. Though the prayers themselves bring no comfort to me, it is enough to hear her speak words that do not pertain to my father once in a while. She still thinks that I am him, and that I suspect is unlikely to change.

Classes resumed today. Thought they would have done well to have held off for until tomorrow. Today was long awaited trial of the Crouch boy, Bellatrix, Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange. The students were far too preoccupied to focus on lessons - as was most of the staff. No one spoke unless it was to speculate upon the outcome.

News of the verdict reached the school by late afternoon, just before the end of classes. Word spread quickly as it always does, _The Evening Prophet_ had yet to be delivered or even printed - but everyone already knew.

Few were surprised to learn that the Lestranges were convicted of their crime. The real shock came once everyone learned that the Crouch boy had been found guilty as well. Many assumed that Crouch would send his son to prison just to uphold his reputation, while others expected him produce evidence to prove his sons innocence to save face. The thought of a father condemning his own son is unthinkable to some - but not to me. I of all people would not be shocked to hear that a father would so easily cast off his own son.

As to the trial, it was an awful scene by all accounts. The Lestranges were insolent till then end - proudly proclaiming their guilt and their willingness to wait for The Dark Lord's return, sickening for to thing of all that they have done...

The boy was another story. The say he wept and cried out for his father and mother to help him. He sobbed as he insisted upon his innocence - saying again and again "I'm your son!"

Crouch was unmoved. He declared angrily that he had no son. The whole of the Wizengamot watched as they dragged the screaming boy from the court. His mother sobbed then collapsed, and all the while Crouch did nothing.

Awful. I still doubt the tales they tell of the boy's involvement. I never saw him when I was in league with the Death Eaters, not that I knew all of his followers of course... so much of my time was spent in isolation. He could have been I suppose. I do feel sorry for him however - if he is in fact innocent. I know what it is to grow up under the yoke of a man like that. I wonder, would my father have even granted me a trial?

What difference does it make? His poor mother - her's is the true figure of tragedy. The tyrannical father - the fallen son, always it is the mother who suffers and is forgotten. All of the mothers who -

Wait - I'd nearly forgotten, for it occurred long before the events of the trial became known to us all. Something good did happen today. I saw Minerva in the Staff Room early this morning. She was knitting using the Muggle method. I put me in such a good mood just to see her.

Half in jest I said to her. "I never knew you knitted, particularly in that fashion." I couldn't help but to grin wickedly, I had just teased Minerva Mcgonagall after all..

She merely raised an eye brow at me. I really did miss her.

~Tuesday 5 January - Afternoon

As per my usual apathy, I attempted to silence the discussions concerning the trail only once during my morning class. After that I simply spoke over them. Seeing I speak so softly, I suspect that less than half of the class heard me.

I wish I could say that I cared, but I do not. My thoughts stray back to my mother. I worry that she will die suddenly when I am not there. They keep assuring me that she has a month at least but that does little to ease my nerves. What kind of a son am I to just leave her? Why should I stay here pretending to teach those arrogant little pricks who have no desire to learn anyway!? I am not even a real professor - I am a spy. I know I must look after her son, but he does not need me now.

Yes I understand after having attended the Malfoy party that there will be a danger to him at some point. I do mean to be vigilant and tell Dumbledore all that I can of their doings - but what else can I do? He will not permit me to kill the remaining Death Eaters, and while I do now see why that would be folly, I still do not see know why I must persist in this foolish charade. I am _useless_ as a professor.

I hate how trapped I feel. Fuck it. Guilty or not, The Crouch boy is the lucky one. I never wanted this. I _begged_ for Azkaban...

~Wednesday 6 January - Sunset

Their was a thrush outside of my window just now. I heard him sing and felt some remembrance of life stir within me. The days are getting longer as well, if only by minutes. I have been keeping note this since the winter solstice. I will take what little comforts I can.

The prats still persist in calling me "Snape" or worse I am called "Severus" by the most insolent among them. It is mostly the seventh year Slytherins who do this. Surly they recall that I was a lonely, bullied boy in the Common Room with only books or my few Death Eater friends for company. I should stop them from calling me by my first name, but how can I stop them? Shall I employ the tactics that I used to stop Potter and his friends when they teased me and called me names? I wasn't exactly successful in defending myself back then so how am I to do it now?. I suppose I should be grateful that no one has called me "Snivellus" as of yet - though I am sure it is coming. My money is on Matilda.

~Thursday 7 January - Saint Mungos with my Mother

I've literally been worried sick all day. I am constantly barraged by nightmares and premonitions of her death and there is nothing for it. I was calm when I asked for Dumbledore's permission to visit her tonight, lest I allow him to see me so unhinged. Even still he must have noticed. I hate him.

He said that I could stay with her as late as I wish so long as I return in time for for classes in the morning. Dumbledore offered first to have O'Malley to cover for me. I declined this, for though I resent it all bitterly, it is my burden to bear.

I will sleep here tonight, and perhaps then I will not be visited by nearly as many nightmares.

~Friday January 8 - Saint Mungos, The Closed Ward - very late

I was close. Matilda didn't go so far as to call me Snivellus today, but she did the next best thing. The bitch questioned my lineage and blood status in front of everyone.

Midway through my lecture on Veritaserum I noticed that she had raised her hand. I tried to ignore this, but after a minute or so it was like some scab that I couldn't help but to pick at. I ignore her no longer "What is it Miss Westin?"

"Is it true Snape," she began, vainglorious as ever, "Was your father a Muggle?"

I glared at her - unable to speak for a moment, though I allowed no shock or fury to cross my face. "If you must know he was."

I thought this blunt answer and cold tone would put an end it but instead she grew all the more smug. Several students began to laugh, "Really?" she pressed on, "And is it true your father currently works in - what is it that the Muggles call it? I forget, is it a factory?"

I nearly hexed her. The bitch had done it. Everyone had long known that I was a Half-Blood, and certainly a great majority of the students had known that I was of low birth - but for her to discuss - that bastard - to name him as the origin of my loathsome blood status and to inform everyone that he worked in a factory was beyond too far - even for_ her_. The moment the words had escaped her lips I nearly died of shame, but somehow - without even thinking - answered her with no hesitation or emotion, "My father is dead Miss Westin. He no longer works anywhere."

That instantly wiped the smile off her face. Her mouth hung open a moment, clearly she was not expecting such a response. The other students sat dumbfounded and were ultimately silenced as well. My irreverence over the death of my father terrified them. I must say I rather enjoyed those few moments in spite of my fury.

It was all short lived of course. During my afternoon class - two Gryffindor boys well on their way to becoming the new Marauders got into a fight, spilling an entire caldron full of Swelling Solution all over themselves and three other students in the process. It was a fucking disaster.

I hate today. The only saving grace was that Dumbledore and I barely spoke during our weekly meeting. I feared that he would want to chat about Monday's trial, or worse - that he might bring up tomorrow.

I am with my mother now. She has been asleep this whole evening. No chance that she will bring it up either.

~Saturday January 9 - The Closed Ward, Night

Twenty two. I don't feel any different, nor should I. Nothing has changed, and I haven't marked the occasion, nor has anyone in ages. No one is left to do so anyway.

When I was in Hogwarts, I would ignore the day - preferring to tell no one. If no one knew, then it would be my secret, and that was power. If people knew, that was a weakness, for then I would be forced to face the fact that no one remembered or cared. Lily certainly ignored it after what I said to her. My poor mother, she was too far gone to remember by the time I had reached 15 - and the other one... he would be the last person to celebrate the date of my birth.

Just now I was remembering the last time that someone surprised me with gifts and a party... and how a few years later when I was drunk in Hogsmeade - and that is when I realized that I had been absentmindedly running my hand over the back of my neck. I do this far too often, I really have to stop that. It's still there, whether I see it or not. Perhaps that is fitting - no I have to end this train of thought - I am too unhinged already..

I should sleep now. I need today to end.

~Sunday 10 January - Early morning sunlight - My Room

I dreamed last night that I was in the house with my mother. She was still dying but at the very least she was in her own bed and we were not here. Would that I could bring her there or to Hogwarts. I cannot take care of her at the house, nor can Madame Pomfrey do so at the school

I will be back there soon. Dumbledore said that he will come to collect me at four this afternoon to take me to Saint Mungos. I hate being there, but every day when the time comes to leave, I never want to go. It is too upsetting to see her sometimes. Then of course I will worry about her the moment I am gone. What if she dies? What if she dies an I am not there?

I am so torn.

~Monday 11 January - Morning - the Potions Classroom

I can't believe that just happened. I don't even know how to feel. I feel guilty. This is too much. I never expected anything like this, ever.

I went into the Staff Room this morning. I was still half asleep when I opened the door and found Minerva was there - standing with her arms folded glaring at me. She looked just as she had when we would show up late to Transfiguration. Her lips were pursed so tightly - I was in trouble and I knew it. I'd completely forgotten that I was a professor. "Is something wrong?" I asked. I even sounded like a timid student when I spoke.

She raised an eye brow as she spoke sharply, "For future reference Severus, you might want to let people know when it is your birthday."

"What?" I was in total shock.

Still she did not move, and her keen eyes remained fixed upon my face. Only then did I notice that she held a bundle of black fabric in her arms - her knitting from last week.

"I-" what could I possibly say to her, "I'm sorry." It was all I could think of. I didn't think she would have cared one way or the other.

Again she raised an eye brow, but this time smiled at me. "I will forgive you, but only this once." At that she threw her knitting at me. I caught it without thinking for I feared any harm coming to her hard work. "Happy Birthday Severus." She said finally breaking into muffled laughter. Still I struggled to catch what I realized was a thick, black scarf. It was so long that I only managed to catch half of it in my arms.

Scarf. Oh dear God this was, "you-"

"Yes I knitted it for you. It was the least I could do."

"How did you even know - Thank you, I mean. That was so thoughtful, you shouldn't have." I must have sounded like such an idiot. I had no idea how to respond at all.

"I knew it was your birthday because it was in your school records," she said, half amused and half exasperated.

"But, that must have been ages ago," I was still so confused. "I mean, since you would have had to read through them."

"It was only a few months ago." Now she was exasperated - she shook her head at me when she spoke, "Albus had asked me to retrieve them when you were hired. It is a standard procedure."

I struggled for some cleaver comeback, but I could only manage to tell her, "I am sorry. I just didn't think..."

I was in trouble again, she gave me that look. "Oh stop that. You are a part of the Hogwarts school. Just as Albus says, we are a family. Honestly Severus."

I thanked her again, and for once, I didn't hate it when Dumbledore was right.

It is such a wonderful scarf, and I was saying just a few days ago how cold I was. Already I love the thing more than I can say. October the forth. That is her birthday. I must somehow make something for her that is equally wonderful.

~Monday 11 January - Dark - Late night in my room.

I suspect now that the students had spent the better half of their holidays preparing their plots and schemes against me. In addition Matilda Westin's attempts to discredit me in class, new rumors of Slytherin's Legendary beast abound - terrifying the younger, more vulnerable students. I noticed the whispers a few days ago, but more and more of my younger students, particularly Slytherins are now frantically discussing - not only the existence of the thing, but actual sightings - which is absolutely absurd.

There is no monster. I cannot stand it. Stories about that ridiculous monster have been used to frighten first years for centuries. Most everyone at the school see this as nothing more than a harmless joke, but those of us who understand what it is to be so small and to feel out of place, we know better. What everyone fails to see is the fact that this is an attack against Salazar Slytherin. To say that he left a violent creature in place to terrorize students only helps to spread more fear and hatred towards him - and indeed the entire House of Slytherin.

It is disgraceful now to see this rumor be embellished and spread further by Slytherin students - to be used against other Slytherins. It makes me truly sick, because I know they are only doing this to get back at me. Were Horace Slughorn still head of Slytherin House, none of this would be happening. They hate me. They want me to step down due to my failures, or better yet to see me sacked.

The joke is on them, for I can neither step down nor be fired - though I wish I could be. I understand why they hate me of course. Slytherin is known for wealth and power, and I have neither. Horace took bribes from them I know, and I can not be swayed. He could have helped them because he had more connections than anyone else in the Wizarding World. Through his endless friends and acquaintances he could help his students to attain any position they desired when they left Hogwarts. I can not do that.

Every now and then, I do catch myself thinking upon my own position. At times I think my self fairly fortunate to have such a lofty position as the Head of Slytherin House considering my background. I always wanted to do great things, and while this is certainly not what I wanted, it is _something_.

I always catch myself in the end though, for it is so ridiculous. I am not qualified - not for this. I should be writing, I should be developing new potions in my own private study. I should have devoted my life to research. There wouldn't have been a lot of money, but I could have achieved... something. I have to forget that now. What is the point of thinking about what could have been when it is my fault that everything was ruined in the first place?

I don't dare dream of having a career that I love after what I have done. I don't dare dream even of developing new potions in my spare time when I have dozens of terrified eleven year olds milling about the school, searching for fissures and signs of claw marks...

~Tuesday 12 January - Dark - Late night in my room.

I couldn't sleep last night. I kept waking up thinking that she had died and when I did manage to sleep - I dreamed it as well. So vivid were my dreams, I could actually hear the Healers, standing by my bed and telling me how she had passed on unexpectedly. Once I sat up - staring around the room with my heart pounding as I tried to figure out where the hell I was. Where am I, what is happening!? It was a dream - it was a _dream!_ It was, wasn't it?

At breakfast I kept looking up to Dumbledore in terror. He knows - but if something had happened in the night he would have told me - he would not keep such a thing from me.

He only glanced at me - smiling for the sake of the staff and the students I am sure.

Fuck. My hands shook so much as I tried to force myself to eat. Minerva looked over at me quizzically but said nothing. What she must think of me - and after she had been so kind to give me a gift for my birthday - which still makes me feel awkward in her presence. I tried that much harder to not be terrified - but that only made me more nervous. I nearly knocked over her water goblet for Christ Sakes.

I spoke to the class as little as possible - lest they hear any hint of it in my voice. Every sound filled me with fear - for it might well have been the owl coming to herald her death. All I could see was my mother - then Lily - then my mother again. One student raised her hand to ask a question unexpectedly and I nearly hexed her.

"What is it." I snapped. He was unfazed but still I felt bad for having it. I keep snapping at them and I can not help it. It is one thing to be short with a forth year Gryffindor on the Quidditch team, but it is quite another to lose my temper with a first year Hufflepuff. I thought that boy might cry.

Well fuck them I want to cry as well - but I am not permitted to show emotion - am I!?

I bit my lip and clenched my hands into fists beneath my desk as I gave the instructions to my sixth year N.E.W.T. class. It was all I could do not to scream. I spoke slowly, I told them exactly how to prepare the Mandrake roots so that none of them would ask me any questions afterwards no matter how dense they might have been.

I had almost finished. One step remained in my explanation - and then her hand shot up.

Joan Ogden. I could have killed her.

I took several deep breaths, ignored her and tried to finish my sentence - she did not wait, "Hey Severus," she called out over my words.

I stopped talking - the entire class fell silent. My chest tightened - rage consumed me as I shot her an ice cold, hateful stare. I could feel my eyes narrowing in preparation to literally kill her, and she knew it.

She was afraid of me then, but so determined was she to go ahead with whatever cleaver quip she had planned that she spoke out anyway - though she could not do so with out a great deal of nervous laugher. "I was wondering, you know if you could tell us about your mother."

Today - of all days I clutched the edge of the desk while in my mind I began to loosen the chain that held a basket of herbs above her head - and then suddenly my rage gave way to clarity. Yes. Joan asked after my mother, just days after Matilda asked after my father. This was in no way related to my Mother's illness - this was still all part of their perverse fucking plot to unhinge me - and it was working.

"What do you want to know?" I said as if from a dreamlike state with no emotion.

This unnerved her even more. She giggled and whatever speech she had planned fell completely apart into teenage girl babble. "Um, her last name was, you know, it was Prince was it? And she was a Slytherin - thing is, I mean we all know most of the true Slytherin families and we'd never heard much about the Prince family - I was wondering about her lineage."

"Then I suggest you try the library and borrow a book about the names of all the known Wizarding families. " I said dryly and with no hesitation. "In the meantime you might want to focus on your abysmal potion making skills seeing as you are consistently so far behind your classmates." A heavy Silence fell across the room as the color drained from her face. I felt a sick satisfaction, and yet it was not enough, I was neglecting something - "Five points from Slytherin for referring to me by my first name."

That was it. I had done it. I had gained control over them and not one student spoke out of turn after that. There will be repercussions for this I am certain. So long as they take it out on me it will not be so terrible. If there is another incident like the one unleashed upon Swanhilde I will feel awful.

So is that it then? Is that how I am to alleviate my terror at losing my mother? Am I to terrorize my students? Joan deserved it - I haven't the patients to feel guilty tonight. Not tonight.

~Thursday January 14 - My Room early evening. It rained today.

The last few days have been uneventful. I was with my mother last night. The students had been quiet - until just now.

On my way to my room, I came upon Joan Ogden and Elwin snogging in the hall. I so wanted to take house points from them, but as I approached the pair broke it off on their own accord. They seemed to be arguing. I hid behind a suit of armor for a moment, trying to decide what to do. I could not hear what it was that they were saying, but it sounded rather serious. Joan was irritated by something he had done or said - and he looked deeply troubled.

I wanted no part of that so I came back to my room. Besides, I wanted to write about something else - something far more pleasant. I've been waiting to write about it all day.

Last night I dreamed about Lily. It was brief, but it seemed so real. I was sitting alone in the Staff room reading the Daily Prophet. She sat beside me with her head on my shoulder.

I could actually feel her. She was so warm and so alive - it hurts me now to think upon it - but in my dream - none of it had ever happened. She was with me. It was the single greatest thing to have happened to me in ages, and I don't care that it wasn't real. It was real - it is real - the only thing that is real.

God I cannot wait for this week to be over, for the students to fall silent so that I might be alone with my thoughts of her. Perhaps my mother will speak this weekend, not to me of course, just speech in general. I have given up hope that she will recognize me.

~Sunday January 17 - Night.

My mother remains unchanged. She spoke little this weekend. I prayed with her. I told her stories about better times, but nothing changes. Back here in Hogwarts again and the fear that I might lose her has crippled me once again. I do not want to sleep.

~Monday January 18 - Biting cold wind - gray skies

I am still on edge about my mother. All I can do to take my mind from her is to think of Lily - and that is a dangerous thing. Her face, her eyes, her laugher. My heart aches from it. I do not know which is worse - to think of her or to worry after my mother. There is nothing else to think of. There is no escape. Anxiety or heartsickness mingled with guilt. I don't know what to do.

And yet still I have to be stoic and stand before the little gits every day as they look up at me from their desks. What do they want? Stop looking at me.

~Tuesday January 19 - Closed Ward with my Mother

Lily is safe in Heaven - dead with Potter, the man that she loves. When I die, I will not be going to the same place. What if I did somehow end up seeing her in the afterlife? What would she say to me? Would if she even speak to me at all? Seeing as she ceased to speak to me over one simple slip of the tongue, I find it unlikely that she would be anymore forgiving this time around, not when I caused her death. I caused the death of the man that she loved and left her infant son an orphan.

Even if I had remained silent and innocent of murder I would still not see any form of Heaven, not without her. I would still be forced to watch her and Potter together forever in eternity. I would be in Hell, and if she were to be with me, she would be in Hell. I reasoned this out years ago.

It is not possible for Heaven to exist. Heaven for one is to be with another person. But that other person - forced to be with the one who desires them - would think themselves to be in Hell. So how than can Heaven exist? It doesn't.

Still I am tormented. I do believe that there is some form of an afterlife, and I know my soul will not be released. I will be punished for what I have done.

~Wednesday January 20 - Snowfall - Late Night in My Room.

It was quiet today, no trouble from the students - no screams or even raised voices in my classroom. It was eery, and it did no end once I'd gotten to Saint Mungos either. There were no words from my mother and the Healers all around us spoke in hushed tones as if they did not wish to be heard.

I kept glancing over my shoulder looking for trouble - just as I had when the students fell silent. The students are never at a loss for words, unless they are up to something. And the Healers, could they be hiding something? Is it pity that drives them to whisper?

It is freaking me out. Something bad is about to happen. I swear it is so quiet that I can hear the snow falling outside my window. Something is wrong. My hands shake and there is nothing for it - something _is_ terribly wrong.

~Thursday January 21 - My Room - Night

I had to. I had to take it or else I would never have gotten through classes. It will wear off soon. Classes have ended and I am in my room now. I will not survive Saint Mungos tonight - and I certainly can not be in the Great Hall.

The silence. I was right. When I entered The Staff room everyone present fell silent. Some averted their gaze, but anyone who dared look up at me did so only to look upon me with pity.

They know. They don't know of course. The other professors only think that we were friends. Certainly they knew us to be lab partners, to have come from the same town and...

At first I thought it was my mother - when I saw their faces. She is dead. _The Prophet_ - for they were all reading it. I knew, I just knew that they had published an article about my mother and...

My heart hammered, my trembling hands threatened to give me away as I reached for the rolled up copy of the paper nearest to me -

_Lily._

That was the first and last thing that I saw - for after that I was frozen. I bit my lip and forced myself to seem not to care as I took a seat in the armchair - gripping it for dear life as I did.

Lily and James Potter. The sight of the words still turn my heart to ice. But this was to be set in stone. They mean to make a monument - for her, for him and for her son. A monument to celebrate their lives and their sacrifice. They mean to place it in Godrics Hollow, near the house where I...

I was as still as a stone myself - to the other professors who still watched me from the corners of their eyes. But inside I was on fire - screaming with a fury and a pain that even now hours later I cannot even begin put into words. I wanted nothing more than to run. My thoughts turned dark and I longed to use my abhorrent spell of Sectumsempra to cut my my arms and my chest - it wasn't enough - my thoughts turned darker and I thought of the tower. That is when I knew that wouldn't make it.

I blinked as a doll and moved like a mechanical toy. Placing the paper back down on the table, I stood up and made for my stores. Slughorn's stores by all rights not mine, but no they are mine. Shaking like a leaf as tears began to form in my eyes I took the bottle from the shelf and unstoppered it. I took too much calming draught but I had to.

I made it through the day but it will wear off soon. I mean to be outside when it happens. I mean to be lost and alone in the Forbidden Forrest - for when it hits me I am going to run, If I scream in the forrest, and I mean to - only the monsters will hear me.

~Friday January 22- My Room - Early morning - the Sun has returned

I ran hard last night. It was dark and still snowing. I'm not sure how it happened. Everything was moving too quickly. Ice it must have been, for I felt the heal of my boot slam hard onto something slick. A frozen root and than the next thing I remember was slamming head first into a tree. I can still feel it, the split through my head as if the blow divided my skull just between my eyes. I lay on the ground for a few moments trying to understand what had happened. I didn't even recall falling.

I am tired and my thoughts are too fuzzy. They would tell me that I have a concussion I know but what is there for it? I must still teach and spy on the Malfoy family and their allies. My health and my life mean nothing. I am a soldier. I have no feelings. That unbearable pain inside of me is nothing. I am going to teach now.

~Friday January 22 - My Room - Near Midnight

Back in my room, just back from my mandatory meeting with Dumbledore. He suspects something, as usual. He kept asking me if there was anything that I wanted to talk to him about.

"No Sir."

After enough nodding and pretending to listen to him as he told some pointless story about some stupid letter he received from an old friend he let me go. I am so sick of everything. Just let me see my mother and let me be...

He only asks this for fear that I might fail the mission. He doesn't truly care what happens to me otherwise.

~Saturday January 23 - Saint Mungos

I sat with my mother. The Healers were whispering again. There was news in the whispers. They spoke of Pettigrew, or a monument that is likely to be built for him, but only in whispers. It was then that I understood the silence. No one wants to speak of the monument to her - to both of them. It is almost as great of a tabu for them to mention her as it is for them to say the name of the Dark Lord. Of course they avoid it since calls to mind all the lives that were lost or destroyed by him. They do not want to be reminded of the cost...

I want to hate them. I want to be angry at them for having the option to move on and forget. The hollow ache inside of me will remind me every moment of every day of the terrible cost that...

No. It is wrong of me to take out my fury upon the Healers - when they of all people should have a right to want to forget. Death is quick and not nearly as complicated as caring for the permanently injured victims of the war. Their work is a daily reminder of the cost.

So be it. Let them make monuments. Let them erect hard stone effigies in every corner of the Wizarding World. They will see, and in time forget the insignificant details. They will see only the face of a beautiful woman who was lost. Her face, covered in snow, shadow and eventually moss. Long, bitter years will pass. The wind and rain will whittle away the features of her face. Not a soul will remain to remember her laughter and in time even her name will be lost to all memory. Only a weathered form of a stone woman with out a face will remain and that is how they will remember her...


	22. Chapter 22

~Sunday January 24 - My Room - early morning

I am still shaken... still horrified by the news of the monument that they mean to build for her. No, not just her, it is meant for him and for their infant son as well. Hidden from the muggles, there it will stand before their ruined home - a cold, stone empty effigy of her that would need not have been built were it not for me. Had I remained silent it would be flesh and blood - not stone that would stand before that shattered house in Godrics Hollow.

I thought of it today, for they are wrong in that they mean to hide the thing by magical means so that no Muggle will ever know. What of her family? Her parents are gone yes, her sister... Have I come so far that I even pity Petunia? Of course I do. She was a spoiled, jealous girl, but she never deserved to have her sister stolen from her - forced to take in a child that is not her own. She will look upon him and know... just as I will one day.

And now they talk of a monument to Pettigrew. Why not build one to him they say? He was so ruthlessly killed. What Black did to him... What I would do to Black were I to be given a chance. All the same - I do not want to see Pettigrew given anywhere near the same honors as her - ever.

Pettigrew was an insolent bastard, always on the heals of Black and Potter. He would have skinned me alive if Potter had asked him to. The kid was a coward but there was a profound derangement in his eyes. How he would stand there, gleefully watching as they tormented me - I swear he got off on it.

So they will make a monument to him because he has died.

I wonder, will they make one for Evan Rosier? He was a foolish boy - he made mistakes and stole but he never once hurt anyone in his whole life. The first, and only time he ever brought harm to another was on the day he died - when he cut off a piece of Mad-Eye Moody's nose in self defense - which he did using a Sectumsempra. It was a spell that he would never have even known had I not taught it to him in the hopes that he would finally learn to defend himself...

If my friends were the Slytherin equivalent of the Marauders, than Evan for all of his silly behavior would have been our Pettigrew. He too tagged along for the amusement of the others and stood back while others acted - but unlike Pettigrew he did not enjoy watching others suffer. When Avery and Mulciber turned aggressive towards the end, Evan not only distanced himself from them - he stood up to them. I wish I had an ounce of his courage. Even was twice the man most people could ever hope to be.

There will be no monument to Evan. No stone to immortalize his likeness. No one will ever appreciate how a muggle-loving, gay Slytherin raised by a hateful and abusive family stood up to some of the most violent of Death Eaters. They beat him down in the end, as I know all too well. He may have succumbed to the demands of a violent father, but he will always be a hero in my eyes.

I am so enraged by the injustice of it, which made all the worse by the fact that I was forced by Dumbledore to accuse him in my trial in order to protect Avery and The Dark Lord's most loyal supporters. I must seem to still support The Dark Lord or Dumbledore's plans will fall apart.

I had a thought this afternoon - My flesh. Ink. Evan will never be immortalized in stone - but my skin could serve - I could get a tattoo for him as I did for her - as I did for Lily. Before I was ever cursed by The Dark Mark, I had the image of a doe placed upon my arm and after that, upon the back of my neck on my spine... but I stopped myself. My current tattoos I have excuses for should Dumbledore's plan prove necessary. Any mark that might reference Evan or Wilkes would give evidence to the fact that I support those who turned against The Dark Lord.

I am not free to mourn any of the friends that I lost. I cannot even visit their resting places.

Less than a week now.

~Monday January 25 - My Room - early morning

Today is Monday. Saturday it will come and I am so terrified. I wonder about the artists who will carve the statue. How will they capture her radiant green eyes in stone? Frozen, gray, dead stone...

I am going to be sick. My head hurts so much and I want to sleep.

~Wednesday January 27 - My bed in my room

The day is so close now and I can think of little else. In addition to that, or because of it - I've had a headache for the past few days. It has not been severe, just constant - so I haven't paid it much mind. The past few hours however have been unbearable. I wanted nothing more than to take a long bath and to fall asleep forever.

The steam from the hot water seemed to help, and though I haven't seen it written anywhere despite my many searches through the books in this castle - I know for a fact that the waters in Slytherin have healing powers. There is an old magic that runs through them - I need to book to tell me that. I wondered as I floated lifelessly in the luminescence of the blue-green water if there was something of the Lethe in them, for even my horrid memories seemed to be silenced for a time. I was almost at peace.

Submerged beneath the surface for I could hear only silence. It wasn't until I lifted my head that I heard it. Above the echoes of waves and the steady drip of water - I heard the voices through the wall beyond. The students were shouting. I can hear them every now and then just on the other side... I usually ignore them, but somehow tonight I could not.

I do not know why I did it. Perhaps I did it because I needed the distraction - to think upon anything besides the date - or perhaps I just needed to escape into their petty troubles for just a little while. Whatever the reason, I did it. I carefully began removing the magic seals that I had placed over the stones that sealed the passage, then one by one I removed them.

I hate very existence of the passage that leads to the unused rooms of the Slytherin Boy's dormitory. I hate having to hear their shouting on nights like this - I hate the fear that one day they might find it and somehow manage to remove my seals. And yet, the fact that I can enter Slytherin unseen at any time that I wish is comforting to me in some strange way - particularly now that the students have all but locked me out by withholding the passwords from the younger prefects and myself.

Why it hadn't occurred to me until now I do not know, but I rather imagine that a former head of house might have created this passage for just such a purpose. It was strange to think that Salazar Slytherin himself my have swam beneath the walls as I did tonight... but I suppose anything is possible.

Once inside the dorms, I moved like a shadow to the column that has become my regular place of concealment. I cast a drying charm upon myself, but still I shivered. I really must sleep, I am always cold and my exhaustion makes this far worse.

I stood as still as I could and listened. The shouting that I had heard seemed to have stopped. The students were barely talking at all - which was worse. What were they up to? I dropped to the floor and crawled unseen to a dark corner - closer to where the small group of students stood.

A small voice was speaking, "Are you sure - how can you be sure?"

It was Matilda Westin who gave answer, "Be quiet! Whatever it is you will scare it off."

Fear was keeping them quiet - I heard them all whispering their doubts to one another. Finally the terror seemed to get the better of one girl who shrieked - "Its the Monster!"

At that something moved swiftly across the floor and the cluster of students erupted into panicked screams. Some ran for the corners - some clutched their friends while others leapt up onto the furniture.

"_Kill it!"_ Joan Ogden screamed. She was trying to seem strong, but she was clung desperately to sleeve of Matilda's blouse.

It was Albert Runcorn who obliged. With no fear or hesitation, the large seventh year boy stepped forward and produced a large knife from his robes. "Stay back then," he grunted to the girls. I don't know what disturbed me more, the fact that he carried such a knife, or the ease with which he used it.

Matilda remained as still as stone while Runcorn stabbed brutally at the ground several times. The students cried out over and over - some sounded as if they themselves were his victims. What was it that he was killing? I tried to see for myself but could not do so with out reveling my position.

Finally he stooped to pick up the poor creature. "That ladies," he said in a drawl, "Is no monster. That was the monsters _baby_." I saw from the shadows as he held it up by the tail, that Runcorn had just butchered a large snake. A few girls began to cry while others seemed to be relieved.

It was just a snake. One sees them from time to time in the tall grass about the castle. Why make such a fuss? And what the hell was it doing there in the first place? I instantly assumed that one of _them_ had set it lose in the Common Room or had conjured it by magic. When Matilda spoke to address the students my fears were all but confirmed.

"Runcorn is right, that was far too small to have been the monster - but what was such a creature doing inside of the castle - in our very _dorm!?_ I ask you, why was this creature here - in a place where we should feel safe?" Matilda then paused for dramatic effect. The fact that they are all falling for her bull shit - which was obviously bullshit was beyond ridiculous. Her drawn out silence was nearly as infuriating as the theatrics pulled by Dumbledore in conversation. She did this of course just long enough for the students to begin imagining an array of fears before further leading them on, "This creature is here because of Severus Snape. This creature is only the beginning - a test. It broke free because he is not strong enough to hold it the Monster at bay as our former Heads of House-" but she was cut off.

"I once heard of a spell that could summon a serpent." - Elissa. It was Elissa who'd silenced Matilda. "And surely Professor Snape is not the only possible reason that a snake just happened to appear in our dorm."

"Elissa - you stay out of it. Just because you have some sickening crush on him - don't start spreading rumors." As Matilda said this my heart sank for Elissa. "This snake was here for a reason and I highly doubt this will be the last one either. From this day forward, anyone who slays such a serpent will be welcomed into our circle with open arms. Bring the head, the skin or the whole carcass to me, Albert Runcorn, Joan Ogden or Elwyn Edgecombe and you will be rewarded. Now all of you back to your rooms!" Half of them half to know she is full of shit. They must just be going along with it for the sake of political connections.

Sure enough as soon as she'd given the order, most of the students scattered. Elissa stood her ground as usual, glaring coldly at the other four other prefects. She was out numbered, without Andre - but she was not alone for another girl took her side. Guinevere - a dark haired girl in the fifth year just like her. The two younger girls stared down the older four who glared back in anger. No words were exchanged at all. Then suddenly Joan began to giggle like some idiot girl. "My Grandpa Bob once told me this story from his days in The Ministry - and I just had the funniest idea from it!" She announced this to the crowd, then frantically she began whispering her scheme into Matilda's ear.

Matilda began to laugh as well. "That - is a fantastic idea Joan!" As she said this, Matilda looked over to Runcorn, and gave him a wicked grin. "Shall we?" she said to her cohorts. She stomped off, pushing her way between Guinevere and Elisa as she left the room. The boys hesitated a moment then followed after. Runcorn still held the serpent proudly in his bloody hands.

I left then as well, not bothering to see where the younger two girls had got off to. Poor Elisa. She is trapped in Slytherin, surrounded by idiots who will fall for any foolish fairytale is bad enough, but now they mock her by making up some rumor that she has a crush on me.

Idiots. No girl would ever have such feelings for me, certainly not one so pretty. She is almost as pretty as my one girlfriend had been, if I can call her that seeing as we did little more than fuck. I know she didn't really like me.

For Elissa's sake I suppose on some level that it is better for the students to be blind and think Elissa in love with me than to see the truth, That persecution would be far worse by comparison. It only took a few seconds for me to see it between her and Guinevere. I can only hope they remain ignorant to their relationship.

It has been over an hour now back in my room, and still the whole episode really makes me sick. Has it even crossed their sick minds, that in resorting to such antics to control the students that they have murdered and desecrated their own sigil? Would it even bother them at all if they _did_ know? How could it? They have no moral standards...

I need to sleep now. I really need to sleep.

My headache - of course. I must have a concussion. I've been so worried about my mother and the date that I have forgotten - I really am sick.

~Thursday January 28 - Near Midnight - My room cold

Today was a nightmare. My slumber was full of nightmares that so seamlessly lead into this day.

In my dreams I had been pinned to a table by a binding curse that I could not break. I tried to recall every counter curse that I knew but could not remember anything at all. It was as if I had never known magic. I tried to break free through physical strength alone and failed miserably.

I strained my eyes to see, but there was nothing, only darkness. I heard a voice speaking but I could not make out the words. I knew who ever it was wanted something of me. I understood that I would come to harm if I did not give the speaker whatever it was that they demanded of me.

The voice cried out again - _"Where is she!?" _I understood it then, and I knew I would come to harm if I did not give up the woman they were asking after

"I don't know," - I tried to say these words but couldn't speak. I truly didn't know - I didn't even know who "she" was. Was it my Mother, was it Lily, Minerva or someone else? Any woman at all - it did not matter. I would die before I gave anyone else up for dead.

"_Where is she!?"_ - the sound was like thunder. I felt it in my bones. I tried to break free - fearing this was real and not a dream. It all felt real. My head rattled with the pounding sound that was only growing louder. The walls shook - and suddenly I was in my bed but I still could not move.

I lay immobile - staring at the ceiling as the pounding sound grew ever louder. This was real. The door. The sound was coming from the door to my room I realized - then suddenly I could move again.

The sound had stopped by the time that I had managed to untangle myself from the blankets. Sweat covered the palms of my hands so that I could not grasp the door knob. Once I had gotten the door open I understood. The voice and the binding curse had been a dream, but in reality, but someone had been banging on my door.

The corridor was empty when I stepped outside. I heard footsteps fleeing and teenagers trying desperately to conceal laughter but failing. I knew the sound well. A sudden pang of longing for Evan and the rest of my friends - even Avery pierced my heart. For we used to laugh the same way.

The feeling was erased the moment I saw what they had done. The sight startled me for a moment - and then I wanted to kill all four of them. Nailed to my door was the snake that Runcorn had killed just hours earlier. That, I assumed, was the "fantastic idea" that Joan had given to Matilda in the Common Room. I removed the pitiful creature and left it on my night stand - telling myself that I would bury the poor thing after my classes had ended for the day.

It was still only three in the morning, but I could not sleep after that. My head ached worse than ever. Every beat of my heart sent stabbing pains through my skull. The students were gone, but I could still hear their horrid laughter ringing out like massive bells throughout the halls of the school. I could hear it still as Joan Ogden and Elwyn Edgecombe entered my classroom. They were not laughing - not out loud, but I could see it in their eyes.

I managed to make it through most of my N.E.W.T. class until finally it hit me. The snake - the laugher of teenagers - _Tisiphone. _Evan's cousin, the closest thing I ever had girlfriend - she was with us all those nights when we laughed. The snake - she was an animagus!

Like a fool I ran back to my room after my class had ended - I had to check the dead snake just to be certain. Black eyes, not amethyst as hers had been. My desperation has reached an all time low if I truly thought that a long dead friend would show up here in an animagus form for no reason at all. The serpent was put in Slytherin by Matilda to fool the students and to make a fool of me and she succeeded.

I felt tears of frustration form in my eyes as I held the limp serpent in my hands. No. I won't cry. I won't let her win I told myself. I meant to bury it after all. I meant to do right by the creature and to the house of Slytherin and give it a proper burial. They might well destroy me, but I was not about to let them desecrate Slytherin's name.

I took a cloth from the potions classroom and wrapped the snake safely in the fabric. When everyone had gone to sleep, I took it to the edge of the Forbidden Forrest and laid it to rest.

And now it is late. I wanted so much to see my mother tonight, but I felt to sick and afraid. I have seen too much of death today, and I feared to curse her with another lost life still upon my hands...

~Friday January 29 - My Room - No light

I got through the day in a daze. Dumbledore did not keep me for long. Just a few more hours.

~Saturday January 30 - Morning

The thirtieth of January. She would have been twenty three today. She would have been, were it not for me.

Lily, I have stolen your life and I am now cursed to live out the rest of mine... It should have been me.

I must go see my mother now. On today of all days. God help me.

~Saturday January 30 - Night - Saint Mungos

I almost didn't come here.

All I could think of was the date. The emptiness of it, and yet the truth which screams so loud that I cannot hear a thing around me. I am so sick and in so much pain from what I have done.

I want so much to end it.

There is nothing to take my mind from her

She went to a different school. When we were young we lived so near to one another but we were always in different worlds. Her school was in the better part of town. I had no friends in my school. It was the first time I had ever been invited to a party. I had of course expected to see new faces of children I had never met from her Muggle school at her party - but I was not prepared for the number of them...

Why was I surprised? But I wasn't just surprised, I was terrified... so many. I have so much trouble just talking to one person - but there she was in the crowd, able to converse with all of them freely. Of course she could, she was full of life - always smiling, always genuine and warm to everyone that she spoke with.

This continued at Hogwarts, always she was surrounded by people. They were drawn to her, and she welcomed them all. I never understood how she did it, but I understood _why_ they were all drawn to her. Her birthdays were never a small thing either. Even as we got older and didn't care to celebrate them as we once did as children, there were always well wishers and people wanting to do things for her on her birthday.

I was selfish and afraid. I was afraid of the crowd because of what large groups of people would so often do to me, but mostly I feared that she would want to be with the crowd of people and chose them over me. She did, and I in my selfishness took her from that crowd. They wish to celebrate this day with her as they once did, but now all anyone can do is mourn.

I hate myself. I hate him for having done it. I hate Trelawney for having made the prediction. I hate Dumbledore for having requested the prediction. Sometimes I even hate her. He gave her a chance, he said he would. She didn't have to stand in front of him, she could have escaped. Sometimes I cannot help but to hate the child. Had he not been born it would never have come to this...

...and every time my mind wanders down this path I am struck once more by the pain and guilt. I can feel it - as if I have been struck by a train at full speed. I cannot breathe -it feels like a rabid animal is tearing me up from within. How can I hate her? How can I hate a child?

No one in her position would ever dream of _not_ taking a killing curse to save their child... no one except for my father, and I will never stop hating him. And there it is. All of the pain and fear - my mother still lives. She lays alone in a hospital bed and if I can do nothing else it is my duty to sit with her and attempt to bring her some comfort before she passes away.

So now I sit with her. She sleeps and still does not know of the Sins I have committed.

My time will come. I will be punished. If Dumbledore is right, a time will come when I am asked to take a killing curse for the boy. I won't flinch when my time comes, but I suspect it will be far more complicated than a simple killing curse... I will not fear a horrific death when it comes. I know I deserve it.

~Wednesday February 3 - Early evening, winter sunset - my room

Of all the absurdities. Just let me be and keep my head down - I was doing so well. I made myself numb after all that I faced in the wake of the date. I was doing so well.

It was never meant to be like this. I'm not even supposed to be a professor. Dumbledore summoned me to his office today, but it was not even Friday - not the appointed day upon which we must always meet to discuss things.

We do not meet to discuss things... once a week he wants only to allay his fears that I will take my own life and thus ruin his plans. He thinks me such a coward as they all do.

I was furious when I arrived at his office. I hid my feelings as usual - for as long as I could.

"Severus, you have received an Owl," he said to me as I entered. Of course he did not elaborate, just left the half answered questions hanging in the air. He just sat there smirking, waiting for me to ask the question

_Who would be writing to me?_

I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction. Besides, something else had caught me eye. "Your bird looks awful. Is it sick?"

That was a mistake, from there he launched into a speech explaining the life cycle of the Phoenix - as if I hadn't already read about the creatures before I had even attended Hogwarts. He wouldn't stop. Finally I broke - cutting him off mid sentence before he could talk about the damn thing's last burning day...

"Sir, you said that I had received an Owl?"

"Oh yes," he said as he stood up and reached for the parchment upon his desk. "I had almost forgotten!" No he hadn't. He took his time opening the thing before finally saying, "Igor Karkaroff writes..."

_Why. _

"He wishes to comment you upon your appointment as Potions Master and as Head of Slytherin House." I wanted nothing more than to stop him from reading.

I hate Karkaroff. I've always hated Igor karkaroff. He was an annoying kid who followed us around when we he visited us from his school. No one wanted him around and I would get stuck talking to him. And for all that he was still an arrogant know-it-all. He never shut up about how everything about how every fucking thing from his home to his school to even his socks was far superior to what we had. He knew no one liked him and still he would carry on. Why in God's name would he be congratulating me!?

"He goes on to say that he was so inspired by you, that he has applied for a teaching position at The Durmstrang Institute," and at that Dumbledore stopped talking and looked to me for a response.

"Why." I said no longer concealing my confusion and annoyance.

"Why what Severus?" Dumbledore sounded to genuinely confused himself by my reaction.

"Why on Earth would he care? He barely knows me well enough to concern himself with such a thing. It is just a teaching post," I told him being certain to add, "It isn't even a real one at that."

Dumbledore was unfazed. "He does not know that. He sees what I see, someone who has put a bleak past behind him and chosen a better path. And Severus, there is nothing wrong with a teaching position. It is very admirable, and very real whether you see it that way or not."

I had offended him. He had been a teacher. I had spoken without thinking. I was about to feel sorry for what I had said, and then I remembered that it was Dumbledore that I was talking with... "Sir, I still don't see why anything that I do should concern anyone else, especially Karkaroff."

"You do not see the influence that you can have over others Severus." Another sentence leaving me with more questions than answers. Not this time... He was waiting for me, but I remained silent. All the while I was pinioned under the weight of his eyes as he bore into me. For all the good it did him, it was he who broke first. "Very well. Perhaps one day you will understand the powerful effect that you have on the lives of all those around you."

"All the lives that I have ruined you mean." I just said it. I snapped and I said it without a thought.

"No." He said a little too firmly. "I do not refer to the past but to the present. At any rate, I would like you to maintain a regular correspondence with Igor."

"To enable you to keep tabs on him?" I had lost control of my emotions, I was speaking my mind without hesitation by then.

He sighed heavily, "No Severus, for the sake of friendship and cooperation."

"And you will read my letters to him and the letters that he writes to me in return."

"Naturally."

"Fine. Give me a quill then and we'll have it done." So I wrote to him. A false appointment, and a false friendship - my letters read and censored... What difference does it make? I am a soldier nothing more.

~Friday February 5 - My Room. The days grow longer but the air grows colder

I didn't want to tell him, not after the disaster that was Wednesday's surprise meeting - but had to... The students are out of control. I know things have gone missing from my potion stores and from the class room itself. God knows what they've done in the dorm rooms now that I can only get in by stealth - but I _know_ that they are taking things from my classroom.

"Can you prove it?" Dumbledore asked. "Do you know for certain what potions they have taken from your classroom?"

"No. I just know things are not where they are meant to be!" I said impatiently.

He only shrugged. "Students do such things I would not be too concerned."

"Sir, they may well have stolen dangerous material!" I insisted, but he wasn't listening.

He merely smiled. "It is merely the students up to pranks and nothing more," he said.

"So - you read my letters and you oversee every purchase of potions books or records that I might make - and you do not care that a bunch of untrained students are taking potentially dangerous potions for their own perverse purposes!?"

"They are just students Severus," he said remaining far too calm. "You yourself threatened to take your own life and once not too long ago acted to do so."

"I stopped myself!"

"Then stop your students."

_Fuck you. _ I thought. I nearly shouted it to him, but instead I stormed off. To hell with Dumbledore. If I had known how to stop them I would have done so already. He wants me to go to him for help. He wants me to admit to my problems and when I do he offers to aid or solution. I want to scream.

~Saturday February 6 - Early afternoon, Saint Mungos

I am still furious with Dumbledore. What can I do, cry to my mother about it? She doesn't even wake up.

"Mum?"

If she wakes up she asks for my father or mistakes me for him - which is the most offensive thing anyone could ever think of me...

Mum...

~Sunday February 7 - Afternoon

I can't breathe. I want to - no, I don't. She spoke - of me. In all this time that she has been sick and dying she has never once noticed me or spoken of me - but she...

"Mum?"

"Tobias?"

"No Mum, I'm your son, I'm Severus."

"Severus is dead."

~Sunday February 7 - An hour or so has passed

I still want to cry but I am frozen. She hasn't spoken since. She sleeps and I - my mother thinks that I am dead.

Of course I am - I mean to her I am. I left home. I ran away just after Hogwarts. I never returned to her house - I never wrote and I never looked back. I just left the last morning from the school and went into hiding.

She does not know that I became a Death Eater. She does not know what I have done. No one knew where I was, not even my friends. I saw only a handful of Death Eaters from time to time. A few times I saw him to give him just enough information to leave us alone - my mother and I that is. For certainly if I failed him she would be the first to come to harm. Instead I gave home too much information and he took Lily.

I am such a fool, and my mother thinks that I am dead. So be it. It is better that way.

~Tuesday February 9 - The silence and serenity of my own room

Finally, finally. I have been waiting for this moment all day. The students were horrid and I was not much better...

My morning class of forth year Gryfindors and Slytherins was just plain irritating. They kept on asking questions about things that I had quite literally just told them. The prats have every right to not pay attention. They do not however have any right to interrupt me and waste the time of those few students who are...

My sixth year N.E.W.T. students lead by Joan Ogden, Elwyn Edgecombe and their gang were just as disruptive. Joan and her friends all collectively burst into spontaneous laugher several times during my lecture. I knew then that they were plotting some new atrocity or had already committed it.

Then the fight happened. I watched Adel Eden as she continually accosted Vrennon Stanhope in the back of the classroom. That perpetually despondent boy did little more then sit with his head in his hand, barely shrugging her off - even when she became physically aggressive. I had no idea how to stop such a thing. I was working myself up to reprimanding her when the contents of the desk at the other side of the room flew into the air. The violent crash of instruments upon the floor was nothing compared with the eruption of screams that followed. It all happened so fast - I still do not understand how it started.

Still - all I can see is Adel shoving an unresponsive Vrennon - and suddenly the two Slytherin boys were having a punch up at the other side of the room. I didn't build myself up - I had no time so I simply ran to the spot where the pair was brawling but I froze once I'd gotten close. Both boys were Quidditch players and they both were far stronger than I. For several seconds I stood there hesitating, knowing then that all eyes had left them and were on me - waiting for me to see how I would react.

Both could have beaten me to a bloody pulp by using physical force - but I could have snapped them both like twigs through magic. I disarmed both boys before either of them could see then snatched up their wands in my left hand. Before I could even consider using a binding curse, Elissa threw herself between them while Andre - who is smaller than I am - began pulling the smaller of the two boys backwards. I didn't hesitate then - I grabbed the other one and pulled him back myself. It took all of my strength plus Elissa pushing him back, but I finally managed to disentangle him from the other boy as Andre did the same.

Where would I be with out Andre Boyle and Elisa Deverille? If only they were my sole Prefects...

I handed the confiscated wands to Elisa and asked that she and Andre take them both to Dumbledore to be given detention. "Thank you Miss Deverille and Mr. Boyle," was all I could say. how could I take house points from Slytherin when I would have had to reward them twice over for what they had done to help me?

I was so shaken after that. I hid my hands behind my desk and made certain not to speak, lest they see it in my body or hear it in my voice. I hadn't been involved in such a fist fight since my days at school The feeling of terror and defeat came back to me all too well... I barely made it through the rest of class - but I am here now. Still, something seems wrong and I do not know why. It isn't my mother, no - it is certainly something wrong with what happened today...

I need to be submerged in my lake-fed pool... I need to visit the waters of Slytherin.

~It hasn't yet been an hour -

Adel.

Fuck - she wasn't there. I closed my eyes under the water and I saw it - why the room seemed so wrong,she was gone - as were several of the students in the back row! I was an idiot not to see - I was too focused on Vrennon, hiding his face behind his long hair like some younger version of myself - I was too busy feeling sorry for him and for myself to see it.

That fucking fight was a diversion. Dear God what have they done?

~Thursday , February 11 - Just after dawn

I know now what the students have done. I know now why they staged that fight as a diversion. I cannot prove a thing of course, for that is how they planned it - but I _know._

Andre Boyle and Elisa Deverille are not to blame - they are victims in this as much as I am. Adel Eden - she had her cohorts on the Slytherin Quidditch team did this. I am certain that they acted under Matilda Westin and Joan Ogden's orders. I knew Joan's laugher yesterday meant that she was up to something...

At first I thought it was me. I was so distracted this morning during my first class. I worried after my mother and feared what the students had done and because of that I almost didn't catch it...

I was demonstrating the proper way to brew a Wiggenweld Potion for my first year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Blue smoke. Blue. Why? Then suddenly I caught the scent of Hellebore coming from the bottle of Asphodel Root. The Hellebore was mislabeled Asphodel Root. I cursed Slughorn for his carelessness and quickly corrected the mistake by adding more Wiggentree Bark before anyone could notice. Still, it gnawed at me.

It wasn't until my seventh year N.E.W.T. class that I understood. I was going to demonstrate an alternative method for brewing Polyjuice Potion - I had just picked up a bottle of Powdered Bicorn Horn when I caught the odd way in which Albert Runcorn was looking at me. I looked then to Matilda Westin. She had a gleam in her eye as well but was doing a better job of concealing her malevolence than Runcorn.

_What? What do you want - what have you done?_

The Bottle. I glared at Matilda. I held her in my gaze - knowing it would make her uneasy and distract her while I bought myself a moment to determine if I had been correct in my assumption. Still allowing my eyes to bore into her I ran my thumb along the bottle, not only was it slightly too big to be a normal bottle of Powdered Bicorn Horn - but I could feel the loose way in which the label had been haphazardly reattached.

I slowly replaced the thing upon my desk as Matilda shrank back in her chair - clearly thinking that I had used Legilimency on her - as if I needed to. She is not nearly as cleaver as she likes to think... Meddlesome, infuriating - dangerous - but not clever.

I hadn't taken my eyes from her, but the effect was beginning to backfire. I could see her becoming indignant, but I was growing more furious by the moment. Had she and her friends truly been idiotic enough to pull off such a dangerous stunt just to get to me? Had they been so foolish as to not see the potentially deadly consequences of their actions - or worse, did they do so knowingly without caring if anyone else got hurt in the process? Was that there plan all along? Did they mean for a student to die because I cannot control the potion stores in this castle!?

At that thought I snapped. "I think we will not be having a lesson today. I think it best that you all copy the safety instructions found in the first chapter of your books word for word. You will turn this in to me no later than tomorrow morning."

"Why should we?"

I felt it. I literally felt the place in my chest where Matilda had stabbed me with her statement.

"My having given the assignment should be reason enough Miss Westin."

"I'm not so sure. I will be seeing the Headmaster about this."

"I hope you do," I snapped at her. "You are all dismissed, now. You will return your papers to me tomorrow morning."

I waited until every last one of them had left, locked the door behind them and then made directly for the stores. At first glance everything seemed to be fine, but upon further inspection I could clearly see that things were amiss. How many labels had they switched?

It was a nightmare. For the duration of Lunch, I remained in the store room trying to repair the damage that they had done, but by the end I had barely scratched the surface. How long had they been in here? How many students had it been? For all I knew they could have been at work all night. Two or three students could well have switched every label in that tightly cramped room.

I had to stop to teach my final class of the day. I was grateful to have Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who did not object to my giving them a reading assignment. I didn't dare take my eyes off of them, so I remained in the room with them while I checked on the few stores of potion bottles that were in the class room itself.

Sure enough, they too had been rearranged and mislabeled. I spent at least an hour after they had left making certain that the bottles in the room were correctly labeled. I would have returned to the store room, but I had other priorities. I had to tell Dumbledore what they had done. He needed to know - he needed to know that I had been right. He needed to be told of the danger that Matilda and her friends posed to the other students.

I locked the doors to the Potions Classroom and to my stores and made my way to his office. So help me God there would have been hell to pay if he were to not be there when I arrived. He was, and I could tell right away it was going to be one of those conversations. The moment that I had entered his office, he purposefully ignored my fury and began offering me every form of candy ever created as it lay upon his desk.

"Headmaster, I need to speak with you about the students. This is urgent and demands your immediate attention," I told him.

He smiled at me falsely then said, "Surely it can wait long enough for you to accept or to refuse an offer of lemon drops, which would have been polite Severus, seeing as you were the one to first enter my office with out asking."

"Forgive me Sir," I said though I was far from sorry. "I am merely concerned for the safety of my students." And with that I told him everything. I told him about the dangers in the mislabeled potion bottles. I told him about the four oldest Prefects. I told him how the whole of Slytherin was practically in open revolt. I didn't want to tell him, for I felt I was conceding to defeat. I tried so long to not do so - for I know how men like him enjoy seeing people like me fail - but it had to be done. The lives of the students were in danger, and what was my pride compared with their safety?

So I told him everything. Surely then he would have some sort of a solution. Surely then he would at least turn his attentions away from candy...

He glared at me over his speckles when I had finished. his cold blue eyes bore into me in that way that I cannot stand. Finally at length he said, "Is that all Severus?"

"Yes Sir."

"Very well. Do you recall a conversation we had just a few nights ago," he said as he stood up from his desk and began to walk across the room.

I said nothing. I just watched him walk across that accursed gold and red carpet. How had all the other headmasters from other houses felt upon seeing those odious colors? Even here, even in the headmaster's office is the status of his house being above all the others flaunted and thrust upon us..

"Severus," he called from across the room snapping me out of my angry state, "Come here, there is something I would like to show you."

I obeyed him and followed him to where he stood. The perch. The filthy golden perch for his precious red bird. "What exactly am I meant to be looking at sir?" I had fully lost my patients for this had nothing to do with the threat and the disaster that still lay in my classroom. "Do you mean to point out the fact that you have not cleaned up after your pet since last we talked?" The pile of dirt and filth at the base of the thing was down right revolting."

He sighed and merely thrust a hooked finger through the debris. I nearly jumped when I saw the worm like thing that suddenly emerged from the pile. "There you are. Today was his Burning Day Severus, and now Fawkes has returned to us."

"Sir."

"Severus, I trust you to handle this trouble with your students."

"You trust me so much that you still insist upon opening my mail."

At that he raised an eye brow at me and glared at me with such a fury that even I was frightened. Fine then. Let him make all the cryptic reference to rebirth that he wants. If he was not going to offer any aid beyond his being aloof and poetic, then I would waste no further time in his presence. I bid him goodnight and left his office.

It is now nearly 7 am. I have been in the Potions Classroom since then. I stayed up all night trying to repair the damage done by the students. I have gone over all of the bottles at this point. I am fairly certain that I have caught all of the bottles that had their labels switched and have now rightly labeled everything, but one can only be so sure... I must attend breakfast soon and teach my classes.

Right. I told my N.E.W.T. class to hand in an assignment this morning. I told them to copy the rules for the safe handling of potions as punishment for what Matilda and the others have done. Let us see now how many of them actually did as I told them to do...


End file.
